


Leave This Town (Mechanic!Bucky AU)

by avengerofyourheart



Series: Leave This Town (Mechanic!Bucky AU) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mechanics, Bucky Barnes - Freeform, F/M, Mechanic Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 41,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerofyourheart/pseuds/avengerofyourheart
Summary: Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fell in love with the song "Sleep on the Floor" months ago and had it on repeat for days on end. This story formed in my mind and I'm so excited for it. Mechanic!Bucky?? I'm alllll for it. ;) Hope you are too.

__**"Pack yourself a toothbrush dear  
Pack yourself a favorite blouse.  
Take a withdrawal slip  
Take all of your savings out.  
Cause if we don't leave this town,  
We might never make it out  
I was not born to drown.  
Baby, come on."**

Those first few hours of freedom were absolute bliss! Flying down the highway with the windows down, music blasting as you sang at the top of your lungs. It was everything you had dreamed of. You did it. You were out. You had quit your job, cashed out your life savings, bought a cheap but reliable car, and hit the road without looking back.

All was going according to plan. That is, until 4 hours later your car started to smoke and sputter, compelling you to pull to the side of the road for fear of dying in a ball of fire. There wasn't anything you could do at the moment, what with it being 2am at the time. Thankfully, it was the middle of summer so sleeping in your car wasn't too uncomfortable, at least at night.

Now, you sat on the trunk of your car as the sun's punishing rays beat down on you at mid-morning. Having walked a hundred yards in each direction, you were finally able to get a signal on your cell phone so you could look up the closest town with a car repair shop.

You had left home late last night just after everyone went to bed, hoping to be long gone before anyone realized. Instead, you were stranded in the middle of nowhere with a non-functioning car. You spent the early hours turning on your phone intermittently solely to call the repair shop since their hours weren't listed. They didn't even have a website. Or voicemail. This was the problem with small towns.

Finally, at 8:34am, a gruff male voice answered the phone and you told him your dilemma, indicating the mile marker you were stranded near. Shielding your eyes with your hand, you could now see the tow truck headed your way. After waiting an hour, that beat-up pickup truck was a sight for sore eyes. Sliding off the car onto your feet, you brushed the dust from your shorts as the truck flipped a U-turn and backed up to your front bumper. When the mechanic stepped out, you had to admit he was not what you expected.

He was tall with a muscular build, chin-length hair tucked behind his ears. He sported a light blue short-sleeved button-up shirt with a patch above the left breast pocket, jeans snug on his long legs with well-worn work boots donning his feet. As he approached, you were drawn to his brilliant blue eyes, straight Grecian nose, and sculpted jaw covered in the right amount of stubble. A flutter rising in your chest, you tried not to gawk at the specimen before you and hoped he would assume the flush in your cheeks was from the heat.

"Need some help?" he asked in a rhetorical manner, his baritone voice sending you shivers.

You answered anyway with a sigh, "So it would seem."

"Wanna pop the hood?" he asked and you obliged.

After poking around the engine for a few minutes, he dropped the hood back in place and wiped his hands on a rag before stuffing it in his back pocket.

"Best guess? Busted radiator. I'll take a closer look when I get it back to the shop. I'm Bucky, by the way," he introduced himself while extending his hand.

"Y/N," you replied, grasping your hand in his, the skin calloused with fingertips permanently stained black. "Does, uh... _James_...mind if you wear his shirt?" you asked, nodding to the patch above his breast pocket.

"What—oh. Yeah," he laughed. "No, he doesn't mind. I am James, actually. Bucky's a nickname."

"Got it. Bucky," you smiled, feeling his name burst delightfully from your lips.

He held your gaze a moment longer, then looked away with a small cough. "I'll, um...I'll get your car hooked up in a few minutes."

With a nod, you opened your door to grab a few essentials before slamming it shut and watching in curiosity as he attached the towing contraption to the undercarriage. Once secure, he flipped the switch to raise the front wheels, an unholy groaning squeal erupting from the machinery. Bucky yelled something over the noise, an apology you thought, only catching a few words including "needs a little grease" which you found ironic coming from a mechanic. Covering your ears to lessen the sound, you felt your phone buzzing repeatedly in your pocket indicating a call.

Fishing it out, you froze at the name on the screen. Mom. Waving like a maniac toward the man and gesturing with a flat hand slashing across your neck, he got the message and stopped the squealing lift. Just in time, you swiped to answer the call and steeled yourself for what was to come.

Taking a deep breath, you spoke, "Hi, mom."

"Don't you 'hi, mom' me, young lady. How DARE you leave the house like that? Sneak out like a thief in the night and leave me to find a note on your bed in the morning?" She sounded worried and hurt, which is what you were afraid of.

"I know, mom, I'm sorry but—"

"Couldn't you have said goodbye? Let me know your plans so I could prepare myself to lose my only daughter to the clutches of the frightful unknown?" Well, now, she was just being dramatic, which made you smile a little.

You huffed out a sigh, "Because you would have tried to stop me."

"You're darn right, I would have. You don't know what's out there! You could get mugged or attacked or never find a job and be broke and don't think I'll come right to your rescue, missy...."

You half-listened as your mother ranted on and on about all the terrible things that could happen to out in the scary world. It was the speech you received every time you brought up the subject of leaving town. In your head, you've been planning this for years but only in the past 6 months have you put it into action in secret.

"Mom. MOM," you interrupted her tirade, then softening your voice. "You knew this was going to happen. I've talked about this for years and I haven't changed my mind. It was time. I'm on my way and it's all going according to plan. I'm already a state away and I'm right on schedule. I know what I'm doing, mom. I'm sorry I had to leave the way I did, but this is happening and I'm not coming back. At least not for a while. I need you to accept that. I'm a grown woman and I've made my decision."

There was a pause on the line. You were trying your best to remain level-headed and logical to convince her all was well. No point in letting her in on your latest predicament. You saw Bucky in your sightline a few yards away as you paced back and forth, phone pressed to your ear. He was leaning against his truck with arms crossed, distracting you momentarily from your current conversation until a dramatic sigh broke the silence.

"Alright. Fine," your mother relented. "But what about your work at Maria's? She's gotten mighty dependent on you and now you're letting her down. You were showing so much improvement, dear."

The guilt trip. You were ready. "Maria already knew I was leaving, mom. I gave her two week's notice and made her swear not to tell anyone, so don't you blame her for not saying anything. She's been great to me and yeah, I don't mind cutting hair but it's not what I want to do with the rest of my life. I need to try to pursue this. Even if I fail, at least I'll know for sure."

Another heavy sigh was heard on the line, your heart tightening slightly at the expression of surrender you imagined your mother was wearing. You blinked at the unexpected moisture in your eyes as you momentarily regretted not saying goodbye. You didn't mean to hurt her.

"I love you, mom. I'll call in a day or two to check in," you promised, hiding a sniffle.

"You better, missy," she threatened lovingly. "I love you, too, pumpkin. Be safe."

"I will."

You stared at your phone moments after the call disconnected. It had gone about as well as you expected. Breaking your reverie, a loud squealing ripped through the air making you jump as Bucky restarted the lift. He mouthed a "sorry" as you met his eyes and sent him a glare. Minutes later your car was in place. You watched Bucky walk to the passenger's side of his truck and opened the door, gesturing for you to enter. You accepted his invitation and climbed in.

The first few minutes of the ride were in silence, the conversation with your mom still weighing heavily on your mind, until Bucky broke the silence.

"So...a runaway, huh?" he asked.

With an eye roll, you turned his way, " 'Runaway' is a term for wayward teens. I am a grown adult capable of making the decision to leave town and start over in a new place. Besides, I'm not running from. I'm running to."

You ignored the fact that he admitted to most likely hearing every word you had spoken on the phone. Whatever. He was a stranger and after your car was fixed, you'd be on your way.

"To...what?"

"Everything I've ever wanted," you answered vaguely with a smile.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but your license plates are for the state we are currently in. And I'd like to hear the part in your plan where you're stranded by the side of the road in the middle of nowhere," he smirked, eyes still focused on the road ahead.

He missed the eye daggers you were sending his way. "Well, aren't you a Nosy Nelly there, James," you teased.

The man crinkled his nose at your use of his first name.

"If you must know, yes, I may have fibbed a little on the phone. Technically, I'm only 4 or so hours away from home and the car troubles weren't on the agenda, but there are bound to be surprises on an adventure. And I was serious when I said I'm not going back. Soon I'll have your tiny town in the rear view mirror and be back on the open road," you finished with a triumphant grin.

"Now, wait a minute," he protested, "How do you know my town is tiny? Huh? Ever been there before?"

"Is there more than one traffic light?" you inquired, one eyebrow raised.

He failed to answer, which was confirmation enough.

You snorted. "That's what I thought."

The rest of the ride was uneventful, until you took it upon yourself to turn on the radio and flip through the preset buttons.

"Hey!"

"Country. Talk radio. Country. Spanish. Country. It's bad enough that we're stuck in Middle America where there's nothing to see or do, why does the radio have to suck so bad?" you asked as you continued to flip stations.

"Wait, go back!" he demanded.

Heeding his request you turned the dial backward until AC/DC's 'Back in Black' filled the truck's cab. "You dig the Oldies, huh?"

He grinned, "Nothin' wrong with the classics. Do you mind?"

With a shrug of your shoulders, you removed your hand from the dial. "Better than the other crap."

Time passed as you listened to the music, a few random comments from each of you. Finally, you viewed a few buildings in the distance and within minutes the truck was passing through town. Bucky slowed and pulled into the dirt parking lot of a building sporting the sign "Barnes Auto Shop" in peeling painted letters. He hopped out of the truck and you did the same.

"Give me an hour or two to take a better look and I'll let you know what parts and cost you're looking at. There's a diner about two blocks South if you're hungry. Wander on back when you're done," he had pulled a hair tie out of his pocket and gathered his hair into a bun while he had been talking. Normally, you weren't into the long-haired guys but somehow it worked for him.

Once you realized you had been staring without responding, you snapped out of it and spoke, "Um...thanks. Yeah, I'm starving. I'll, uh...I'll see you in a while then."

"Try the Boysenberry Pie while you're there. Even for breakfast, it really hits the spot."

Taking a few steps backward, you gave him a smile, "I'll do that," then turning to walk away.

"Oh, Y/N!" you heard him call after you and you whirled in place, surprised. "Keys. I need your keys."

You laughed, shaking your head, "Right. Sorry." Digging into your purse followed by a toss of the keys, he caught them out of the air before you headed in the direction of the diner once again.


	2. Leave This Town (Mechanic!Bucky) [Part 2]

_Previously:_

_"Try the Boysenberry Pie while you're there. Even for breakfast, it really hits the spot."_

_Taking a few steps backward, you gave him a smile, "I'll do that," then turning to walk away."Oh, Y/N!" you heard him call after you and you whirled in place, surprised._

_"Keys. I need your keys."_

_You laughed, shaking your head, "Right. Sorry." Digging into your purse followed by a toss of the keys, he caught them out of the air before you headed in the direction of the diner once again._

________________

A bell above the door jangled lightly as you entered the diner, the smell of hot grease hitting your nose. Straight ahead there was a counter with barstools, a view of the kitchen behind it. To both your left and right along the wall lined with windows, there were built-in booths with splitting vinyl cushions and spotted formica-covered tables.

The waitress behind the counter spoke, drawing your attention. "Hey, sweetie. Take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in a jiffy."

"Okay," you responded with a tight smile.

Choosing a booth, you dropped your bag and sat down. You looked around, seeing only 2 other customers currently sitting at the counter with coffee mugs in their hands. Moments later, a pretty redhead approached, wearing a sleeveless button-up flowered shirt and jeans under the apron around her waist. Bright red lipstick painted her lips as she talked to what looked like a regular customer. Probably a local.

"Sorry about the wait, hun. You just roll into town?" she asked you while handing you a menu, then pulling a small notebook and a pen out of her apron pocket.

"Yeah. Just passing through. I hope," you replied, a nag of doubt in your voice.

"You hope?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"It's my car. I don't know how long it'll take to fix it," you huffed out in a sigh.

"I see," she nodded. "Well, don't fret, Bucky'll take care of you, no problem."

Your own eyebrow raised at the mention of his name, but you should have known that everyone knew everyone here. The blessing and curse of small towns.

"I"m Nattie. Can I get ya something to drink to start? Coffee?"

You jumped at the offering. "Yes! Coffee, please," then offering your own name.

"Nice to meet you, Y/N. Welcome. Coffee, you got it. I'll give you a minute with the menu," she said with a smile before walking around the counter for the coffee pot.

After ordering breakfast and a slice of the recommended Boysenberry pie, you sipped your coffee and pulled out your planning materials and laid them on the table. You had hoped to be 8 hours further into your journey, even having planned out where you would stop and either sleep in your car if it seemed safe or a cheap motel if needed. This pit stop wasn't ideal, but you could adjust.

A few hours later, you waved goodbye to Nattie and left the diner. Breakfast was delicious and the pie was every bit as amazing as Bucky had promised. It was mid-afternoon as you strolled down the main road past the elementary school grounds full of screaming children out for recess, the small public library, a barber shop, and the post office.

Approaching the auto body shop, you could hear classic rock blasting from the radio, then following the sound into the open garage. You didn't see anyone at first glance, but after looking in between cars, you finally spotted a pair of long legs poking out from underneath a jacked-up car.

"Hello?" you announced yourself.

"Just a minute," came the muffled response.

A few seconds later he rolled out from underneath the car and got to his feet, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Hey," he greeted you with a smile. "How was the diner?"

"Really good. The pie was okay," you shrugged, then sneaking in a smile.

He crossed muscular arms over his chest. "Is that so? Well, there's something wrong with your tastebuds then," he grinned a you.

You let the moment linger, a crackle of electricity in your veins as you held his gaze. He then cleared his throat and walked over to your car, hood already raised.

"So," he began, "I was right. It's the radiator. Looks like there's a crack that was sloppily patched so it was only temporary. How long have you had the car?"

You shook your head in disbelief. "About a week. That sneaky weasel! I can't believe Brock sold it to me like that!" you exclaimed, gesturing to your broken vehicle.

"Guy sounds like a piece of work. Should've had it looked over by a mechanic before buying."

"I did!" you explained. "Except..."

Bucky waited for you to finish.

"...he's also the mechanic."

The brunet burst out in laughter. "Well, that's one way to keep business going. There's a reason why doctors can't be pharmacists, too," he winked at you.

You let out a slow groan. "So what does that mean? You can fix it, right?"

"Oh, yeah. It's an easy fix. Only problem is, I don't have the part."

"What?" you nearly shouted.

"I called and ordered it, luckily caught the guy before the truck left, but it won't get here until Monday," he said with an apologetic shrug.

You deflated, shoulders hunching as the news hit you. "Monday? That's three days from now! Dammit," you cursed as you slumped onto a stool next to Bucky's work table.

"I know. I'm sorry, but I can only order if the truck is already passing by. They don't make special trips to this small town. As far as cost goes, a new radiator runs about $250, plus labor it's close to $500."

Your mouth gaped open. "$500?" you exclaimed, then groaning as your head fell to your hands.

"It sucks, I know. These unexpected but necessary repairs aren't cheap, but..."

"It's fine," you cut him off, taking a deep breath. "I can handle it. I budgeted for car repairs, but didn't expect it to be this much so soon. And I'm not willing to dip into my emergency fund quite yet. There's too much to take care of once I get there. I'll just...I'll sleep in my car more and avoid getting a hotel a few more nights. I'll figure it out."

Bucky pursed his lips, stuffing both hands in his jeans pockets. "You know...the labor charge isn't a big deal, I could probably shave a few hundred dollars off. I don't have a lot going on right now, so—"

You shook your head vigorously, resisting. "No. I can't ask you to do that. You can't just work for free on my behalf, that's not fair to you. Mama didn't raise no freeloader."

He chuckled at that. "You didn't ask. I'm offering. Really, I don't mind. Doesn't feel right to have you sleeping on the side of the road in exchange for a few dollars. Please, just let me," he spoke, sincerity shining out of his bright blue eyes.

Chewing on your lip in consideration, you paused a moment until a lightbulb went off above your head. "What if...." you began, shifting from one foot to another. "What if I traded you labor?"

His brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"I mean, I could trade services with you somehow."

Bucky's eyes shot open at that.

"No! I mean....not..." you felt heat rising in your face, then clearing your throat. "What I meant was, I could...I don't know, cut your hair for free or something. Even your whole family, I have my kit with me and I'm actually pretty good—"

The man straightened up at that, a hand flying up to his scalp. "Uh uh, no one touches my hair. You got a thing against long hair?" he accused you with a small smile, almost teasing.

"Wha—no, I mean, it doesn't look good on some people, but it works for you, I kinda like the bun and with your face shape I just...I didn't mean to criticize, I was thinking of what I could do..."

He grinned at your flustered demeanor, leaning against your car casually.

Clearing your throat, you looked around the garage. "Okay, well...do you need help around here?"

He eyed you carefully. "Can you do an oil change?"

You crossed your arms over your chest, slightly defensive. "No, but I can check my car's oil and change a tire. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty. I could also organize tools or do filing, answer the phone, help customers...whatever you need. I'll be here til Monday regardless, so," you shrugged, leaving the choice up to him.

Rubbing a hand over his scruff-covered jaw, he considered your proposal. "Okay. You can help with any projects you can find. It's basically just me, so I could use another pair of hands sometimes. Tomorrow, though. You could probably use a few winks after sleeping in your car last night, right?"

You sighed, then nodding in resignation.

"There's a motel about 3 blocks West that's cheap and pretty clean. I can drive you there if you need to unload from your car," he offered as he opened your rear driver's side door.

"No, that's okay," you answered, only grabbing a medium-sized duffle bag from the back seat and slinging it over your shoulder. "I've packed pretty light. The rest can stay in the car, if that's okay with you?"

"Sure. I lock up at night. So just head down this street then hang a left, it'll be on your right. Maximoff Palace Motel," he had pointed out each turn as he had spoken them, then punctuating his last statement with a firm nod.

"Got it," you replied with a nod of your own. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then? 9am?"

"Sounds good. Have a good night, Y/N."

"You, too, _James_ ," you teased, earning an eye roll and a smile from him.

You found the motel easily enough. Stepping through the glass door into the front office you were met with a girl a few years younger than you with long brown hair that fell in waves down to her waist and wide-set hazel eyes, giving her a doe-like appearance.

"Hi! Welcome to the Maximoff Palace. I'm Wanda. Room for one?" she chirped cheerfully with a smile.

"Yeah. Um..three nights I think?" you said, figuring you'd be leaving town Monday afternoon.

"Of course!" she replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard of an out-of-date computer. "What brings you into town?"

"Car trouble," you explained with a sigh.

Wanda paused in her typing, then taking a good look at you. "Oh. So...you've met Bucky?"

"Yeah. I'm actually helping him out for the next few days. Just until my car is fixed," you explained, no longer surprised when his name popped up.

"I see," she said quietly, her cheerful demeanor losing its warmth somewhat. "Name, contact information, and credit card number?"

"Um...sure. Can I just pay cash, though?" you asked, fishing your wallet out of your bag.

"You can pay in cash when you check out but we need a credit card on file in case of damages or some other incident," she said matter-of-factly. Probably in case you ran out on the bill, you assumed.

"Okay," you agreed, giving her all the necessary information which she copied, then sliding a key across the counter to you.

"Room 17. Enjoy your stay," Wanda offered with a tight smile.

"Thanks..." you responded hesitantly as you took the key. You wondered why the sudden chill in her mannerisms while exiting the office, but shrugged it off.

Finding your room up a flight of outdoor stairs, you lugged your bags through the doorway and dropped them on the floor beside the queen-sized bed. You slipped off your sandals and crawled under the covers, springs squeaking under your weight. The bed wasn't the most comfortable, but exhaustion quickly took over and within minutes you were fast asleep.

_________________

You awoke in the early evening, squinting blearily at the bedside digital clock. Your mouth tasted like something died in it, so you sluggishly rolled over to the side of the bed and rummaged through a bag for your toothbrush, but then noticed you had forgotten to pack toothpaste. Figures. You shuffled to the bathroom and made do with just water and brushing your tongue, then popping in a mint you found in your purse. Stomach growling, you decided it was time to venture out for dinner anyway.

You headed toward the center of town and ducked into the corner store for toothpaste, some snacks, and a few other items before heading back to the diner. Nattie greeted you with a wave as you entered and selected a booth. The diner was busier than that morning with a few couples and a family or two adding to the chaotic noise.

"Hey, sweetie. It's good to see you again. Another minute with the menu?" the redheaded waitress asked when she reached your table.

Plucking a menu that was stashed behind the napkin dispenser, you perused it quickly before selecting a random entree. You weren't feeling picky and the faster you ordered, the less waiting time on a busy night like tonight. You'd brought a book this time, one of your favorite often-read paperbacks with folded pages and a broken spine.

You took your time with dinner, eating while you read and occasionally people-watched unobtrusively. After paying your bill, you waved goodbye to Nattie and strolled down Main Street toward your motel. The day had finally cooled off and you found yourself enjoying the walk, peering into store windows and smiling at people you passed on the sidewalk.

Reaching your room, you flicked on the tv mostly for background noise and took a hard look at the detailed budget you had written up for your trip. Paying for 3 days in a motel and adding the car repairs, your wallet was taking a hit, but Bucky's willingness to lower the bill would definitely help. You were grateful to this kind stranger and the thought of spending the whole day with him tomorrow was strangely exciting. Surprised to feel a few butterflies flutter in your stomach, you shook your head to clear away the feeling and got ready for bed.

 _I'll be gone in a few days_ , you told yourself as you drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha (mentioned)
> 
> Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.
> 
> Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of drinking. The mildest of swearing I guess? 
> 
> Word Count: 2.8k

Morning came and luckily your body woke you around 7am because you'd neglected to set an alarm. You hopped in the shower and then rummaged through your duffel for something comfortable to wear that you wouldn't mind getting dirty. Slipping on a pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers instead of your trusty sandals, you pulled your hair up away from your face and headed out the door with an apple in hand.

Arriving outside the auto shop, the garage doors were closed but a light was on in the office. You let yourself in and wandered behind the counter toward the light, finding Bucky seated at a desk piled high with papers. His hair was down, brushing the collar of his light blue work shirt which was unbuttoned to reveal a white tank top underneath. Watching him fill out a form of some sort in a hurried scrawl, you observed him unnoticed a moment before announcing yourself.

"Good morning," you finally spoke, bringing his head up.

His handsome smile instantly brightened the artificially-lit room, causing those butterflies to make an appearance once again. "Morning, Y/N."

You returned his smile, leaning against the door's entryway. "Well, it looks like this office could use a little help."

He chuckled. "You're not wrong, but quite the undertaking. I'm pretty sure some of these receipts are older than me. My uncle owns the shop, but he's basically retired now so I run the place. Organization was never his strong suit. How about some coffee and a little tour?"

You nodded, "Sounds like a plan."

Bucky kept a small coffee pot in the waiting area in front of the counter and he poured you both a cup, offering cream and sugar. You followed him around as he explained where things were and why they were kept there, although sometimes the answer was "because that's where my uncle put them", defying all logic. There was a corded phone on the wall behind the counter, but it rarely rang. According to Bucky, your call was the only one he'd had all week. Most locals just dropped by and he'd squeeze them in whenever he could.

The computer was ancient, which seemed to be a trend in this town, but most files were still on paper anyway. Bucky gave you a rundown of where tools were generally kept along with stories about the cars he was currently working on and their owners. Your favorite was Mr. Coulson's 1962 Cherry Red Chevy Corvette, which he had named Lola. For years he would hover around the car while Bucky changed the oil or any other regular servicing, but he seemed to trust the seasoned mechanic now. Bucky still advised you not to touch Lola, just to be safe.

"So? Which project would you like to tackle?" he asked you as he pulled his hair back into a bun to start his day.

You were momentarily distracted by the act once again, but made it seem like you were considering your options. "Where's the tow truck?" you finally asked.

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Uh...you want to tow something?"

"No, I mean the lift mechanism that nearly shattered my eardrums. It's bad enough when your car has to be towed, being subjected to that unholy noise is just insult to injury."

He barked out a laugh at that before gesturing to its location around the corner of the building. "You've got a point. If you want to back it into that empty stall, I'll show you how to grease it up."

Bucky tossed you the keys and you did just that. You managed to lubricate the hydraulic lift of the tow truck very carefully as to avoid pinched fingers. When it raised and lowered with no squeal, you jumped up and down, clapping your blackened hands in excitement. Bucky poked his head out from under a car's hood and grinned at you, causing that flutter in your stomach to grow.

After the tow truck, you managed to organize the tools which were now all hanging from a pegboard on the wall for easy access. Next, you washed all the dingy windows, finally letting actual sunlight in. Around mid-morning, Bucky asked for your help aiming a flashlight at a particularly tricky part of an engine. You pointed the light at the area in question from above while Bucky worked from underneath the car.

"So where are you headed specifically?" he asked, breaching the subject of your trip.

"L.A." you said simply.

"Oh? Off to Hollywood to become a big movie star, huh?" he teased lightly as you heard the clanging of a tool against the engine.

"Nope," you contradicted him. "I'm no actress. I'm actually a writer. Screenwriter, to be exact," you explained proudly.

"Really?" he asked, an impressed tone in his voice. "That's amazing. Do you write one specific genre or a variety?"

You smiled at his question, grateful that he took your confession in stride without any doubt at your ability. "Action and suspense, mostly. I did write a romantic comedy while I was in school, but it was so damn sappy I couldn't even stand to read it afterwards."

He chuckled, making you wish you could see his smiling face from where you stood beside the car. "I'm sure it wasn't that bad. We're always our own worst critic."

You let out a sigh. "Maybe. My fellow classmates said it was pretty good. I just don't feel like it's my forte."

At that last word, you heard the rolling wheels from underneath, then revealing Bucky. He sat up, catching your eye with a shrug. "Well, sometimes what we struggle with the most is how we grow as a person. Or an artist. "

You considered his words of wisdom as he stood from his crouched position, wiping his hands on a rag. Bucky had a smudge of grease on his neck and you had the strongest urge to take that rag from his hands and brush your fingers against his skin while cleaning the spot yourself. A few strands from his bun had come loose, framing his face as a light sheen of sweat clung to his skin. In this dingy, hot garage, you thought he was the most beautiful sight you'd ever seen.

Realizing you hadn't shared a response, you cleared your throat and broke eye contact, blurting out the first thought in your head. "Hey, what's that thing called? The rolling board thing?"

"Hm? Oh, it's a creeper," Bucky answered, nudging the contraption he had been lying on moments before with his booted foot.

You snorted involuntarily. "A what? A creeper? That's the best thing I've ever heard."

Bucky joined you in your laughter. "Yeah, it's a pretty unusual name."

As the laughter died down, you held his gaze for a moment longer than intended, snatched by the captivating, stormy-grey eyes meeting yours. He broke contact this time, reaching a hand out toward you and you realize he was asking for the flashlight in your grasp.

"Well, thanks for your help. I think I'll be okay going solo for the oil change next," he said with a grin, accepting the flashlight from you.

"Yeah, um...it's no problem. I'll, uh...I'll get back to it then," you replied with a nod, telling yourself the flush on your skin was from the heat of the day.

You spent the next few hours cleaning the garage's cement floor which was covered in oil splotches. Once finished, you stood back to survey your work, wiping the back of your hand against your sweaty brow.

"Wow. I don't think I've ever seen the floor back to it's original color. When you bought that can of Coke from the vending machine I thought you were just going to drink it," Bucky said, impressed as he stood beside you.

"Drink it? Ick. No. After seeing what that stuff does to a greasy oil stain, what do you think it does to your insides?" you asked in reply, wrinkling your nose in distaste.

"Clears out all the grease?" he asked in a teasing tone.

You made a disgusted noise, nudging his side with your elbow as he burst out in laughter.

"Speaking of grease, do you wanna pick up some lunch from the diner? My treat. Nattie knows my usual and you can get whatever you want," he offered, plucking a few bills from his wallet before handing them to you. "I'll finish with this car and get cleaned up."

"Sure," you replied, accepting the cash and stashing it in your pocket. You ventured into the bathroom (which was a whole other cleaning project you had yet to tackle) and washed your hands before trekking the few blocks toward the diner.

You returned half an hour later with a bag in each hand. You hollered at Bucky that food was here and as he rounded the corner, you were gifted with a lovely surprise to see the handsome mechanic in only a tank top, having shed his work shirt in the summer heat. He reached up and released his bun, brunet hair cascading down with a shake of his head. You had noticed something on the underside of his left arm, but it was only a split second so you convinced yourself it may have been a trick of the light.

Both of you settled in the empty waiting room where it was slightly cooler with a struggling air conditioner sputtering in the corner. You ate out of the to-go containers with intermittent conversation. At first bite, you suddenly realized how hungry you actually were. The apple from that morning wasn't very filling, you decided.

"So," you said with a mouth full of food, then swallowing before you went on, "Did you always want to be a mechanic?"

"No," Bucky replied with a small snort. "I'm not sure anyone truly has aspirations to become a grease monkey. Believe it or not, I thought I was gonna become a huge rockstar and make it big. I was in a band in high school and we stayed together a few years after we graduated. We actually weren't too terrible and I got pretty decent at the guitar, but when my dad left, my uncle was shorthanded so I started helping out here at the shop. Turns out I'm pretty good at fixing cars and I don't know. I just stuck with it. Plus we needed the money," he stated as fact, then shoving a forkful in his mouth.

Setting down your own fork, you took a good look at him. Even knowing him such a short time, you could tell Bucky had untapped potential. He was a young, attractive, charismatic guy. He probably could have done any number of things with his life and succeeded. The fact that he just resigned himself to this life made you a little sad. "I'm sorry," you spoke quietly. "About your dad, I mean."

Bucky shrugged. "It was rough at first, but in the end, probably for the best." He scraped the last of his food onto his fork and finished it off, then gathering up his trash. "Are you finished?" he asked you, gesturing toward the last few bites of your lunch.

You nodded and joined him in cleaning up. Following Bucky back into the garage, you both tossed your empty containers in the large trashcan. It was then that he noticed something sitting on on his workbench.

"What's this?" he asked, holding up the cash that had been left there.

"Your change," you answered simply.

He was silent a moment, probably calculating what his own meal normally cost. "This is too much. Did you pay for your own lunch?"

You nodded with a shrug, "I still owe you."

He let out an exasperated sigh as he pulled his hair into a bun again. You weren't mistaken, there was definitely a unique pattern of white lines and curves on his skin under his left arm near his bicep. "I said it was my treat, you didn't have to do that. You're paying me back already."

Offering a smile, you just shrugged again. "I think I'll tackle the office," you said bluntly, biting back curiosity as you walked through the doorway and immersed yourself in the messy back room stacked with papers.

____________

Several hours and a trip to the office supply store later with having done so much filing you felt like your fingers were more paper cuts than skin, the small back room was finally organized. You'd run it all past Bucky later and make sure he could keep up with it for his own benefit, you thought as you stretched your sore muscles. 6 o'clock had rolled around and once again you were starving. You weren't sure how late Bucky stayed open so you peeled yourself out of the vinyl chair and headed for the garage.

You didn't see Bucky at first glance one again, so you peeked around cars, walking toward the far end of the garage where you hadn't been yet. There was a small alcove just around the corner that wasn't visible unless you knew it was there. Turning the corner, you were surprised to see Bucky sitting in the back of a car with a bottle of beer in his hand. Oddly enough, the car had no roof. Or doors. Basically it was a bench seat wrapped in black leather inside a bare car frame. Bucky took a sip and then noticed you standing there.

"Hey," he greeted you with a smile. "All done?"

You nodded, stepping forward. "You?"

"Yep," he confirmed, then letting the moment fall into comfortable silence.

Feeling courageous, you climbed into the car and took a seat on the bench beside him. "How long ago did you finish?" you asked him, rubbing at a grease spot on your arm you'd just noticed.

"About 20 minutes ago. I peeked in and saw you were about done so I didn't want to interrupt. You were muttering to yourself about the necessity of last names on customer receipts, then you sang a few seconds of the Alphabet song to find the proper file. It was cute," he said with a chuckle, then offering the beer bottle to you. "I would have brought another but I wasn't sure if you were a drinker or not."

Your eyes flickered between the beer and him, cheeks enflamed from realizing he had been watching and listening earlier. You accepted the cold beer from him, hyper aware of the fact that his lips had been on it a second ago. Holding his gaze, you took a swig and then handed the bottle back to him. His eyes dropped to your lips as you licked them, then back up to meet your eyes.

"So," you finally spoke, glancing at your surroundings. "Is this a project of yours? This car?"

Clearing his throat, he nodded. "I'm hoping to restore it completely eventually, but it's a slow process. Parts on classic cars are expensive and I don't have a lot of time these days. But eventually, it's going to be a '67 Chevy Impala. Such a great car."

You nodded, trying to picture what it would be like one day. For some reason that specific make and model sounded familiar to you with an image of a shiny black car roaring down the highway flashing in your mind, maybe from a movie or tv show.

Bucky was playing with the label on his beer bottle when he spoke again. "So, I was thinking of going out to dinner at this great Italian place in town tonight. Would you like to join me?"

"Really?" you asked in shock.

"Okay, so it's the ONLY Italian place around here, but it's still pretty good," he admitted with a grin, still awaiting your response.

"Um...sure. That sounds great. Good as the diner is, I'm not sure I could handle a fourth meal in two days," you said, pulling a face.

He laughed, "Understandable. I've done it, but wouldn't recommend it."

You echoed his laughter for a moment. "I should probably get cleaned up though..." you trailed off, looking down at your sweaty, grease-covered clothes.

"Oh, yeah, me too," he agreed. "I can drop you off and then pick you up around 7:30?"

"That sounds perfect," you grinned, climbing out of the car with Bucky following you.

As you waved goodbye to Bucky and shut the door to your motel room, your mind went into panic mode. Was this a date? Did you pack anything date-worthy? How much scrubbing would it take to get the grease out of your skin and fingernails? Taking a deep breath, you let go of those worries as excitement for tonight crept in.

You had a date with Bucky Barnes. Maybe.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha, Clint, Bruce (mentioned)
> 
> Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.
> 
> Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Fluff! Mentions of drinking and sex. 
> 
> Word Count: 2.9k

_Previously:_

_As you waved goodbye to Bucky and shut the door to your motel room, your mind went into panic mode. Was this a date? Did you pack anything date-worthy? How much scrubbing would it take to get the grease out of your skin and fingernails? Taking a deep breath, you let go of those worries as excitement for tonight crept in._

_You had a date with Bucky Barnes. Maybe._

__________

After rummaging through all the clothing in your duffel for something that might be suitable for a kinda-almost-maybe date, you settled on a knee-length skirt and button-up blouse. Both were slightly wrinkled, but you hung them up in the bathroom while you showered hoping the steam would help them relax. You decided to wear your hair down and put on a small amount of makeup. Slipping on your sandals, you were ready to go when he knocked on your door at exactly 7:28pm.

A turn of the knob and he stood before you in a pair of dark jeans with a light blue button-up shirt tucked in, his long hair tucked behind his ears. You weren't one for facial hair usually, but somehow this man's scruffy, well-defined jaw had you weak in the knees.

"Wow," you breathed out with eyes wide. "You clean up nice."

He ducked his head almost bashfully, hands clasped behind his back. "Thanks. So do you, Y/N. You look beautiful."

It was your turn to hide your warm cheeks, stepping outside and locking the door behind you before turning to face him.

"Shall we?" he asked with a gesture of his hand for you to walk ahead. You both descended the stairs and then walked through a gap in the hedge toward the parking lot. Bucky's long legs stepped ahead then, leading you to the passenger side of a pickup truck and he opened the door for you to enter. As Bucky walked around the truck to the driver's side, you gazed out the window to see Wanda standing outside the office with keys in hand, probably locking up. She was facing your direction and you awkwardly waved. She remained frozen in place so you dropped your hand, unable to read her expression from your current distance.

Bucky climbed in and turned the ignition, the truck roaring to life. As he put it into drive and steered out of the parking lot, you glanced at Wanda once again as the truck passed her and she definitely did not look happy. It was time for an explanation, you thought.

"Hey, Bucky," you began and he tilted his face your way without taking his eyes off the road. "What's the deal with Wanda? She was perfectly welcoming when I walked in but when I mentioned my car and you, she gave me a weird vibe. And then just now as we passed, her face was...I don't know. Were you two an...item? Or something?" you asked, suddenly unsure if you even had the right to pry into his personal life, having known him such a short time.

He just let out a long sigh with a shake of his head. "No. We never really dated. She and her twin brother were a few years younger than me in high school. I became friends with Pietro, her brother, when we were both on track team. He made Varsity as a Sophomore when I was a Senior, which is pretty impressive. Anyway, I noticed Wanda hanging out on the bleachers during practice often and I figured she was waiting for her brother or something. I heard a few whisperings that perhaps that wasn't the only reason, but I had said maybe three words to her ever so I didn't think much of it."

Captured by his story, you were also strangely tantalized by his movements as he drove. The truck was a manual stick shift, but he changed each gear remarkably smoothly. He turned onto the main road and the worn leather of the steering wheel slipped through his loose grasp as he eased out of the turn effortlessly.

He ran a hand through his hair as he continued. "Near the end of the school year, there was a girl's choice dance and she asked me. Truthfully, she wasn't the only one, but she was the first and I didn't want to be that guy, so I said yes. The dance was fine, but by the end of the date, it was pretty obvious that it meant a lot more to her. When I dropped her off, I gently made it clear I didn't see her that way. She and her brother stopped talking to me after that and some thought I had led her on, but I was about to graduate and at that point I was thinking of going to community college a few towns over so I wasn't worried about it."

"But then your uncle needed help?" you asked, filling in the gaps.

"Yup. I ended up staying in town and now...I don't know. She doesn't seem to hate me after all these years, so that's good. Our interactions are friendly but it's always a little weird. So, sorry about that. I thought about warning you, figuring she'd be at the front desk, but at the time I wasn't sure it was...relevant," he finished, stealing a glance your way.

"And, uh...does it seem relevant now?" you asked, taking in his gorgeous profile as he drove.

"Apparently so," he answered with a smile as he turned into a parking lot and turned the engine off.

You stayed in your seat and just as you thought, he walked around to your side and opened the door for you. Entering the restaurant, the delicious smell of garlic and oregano wafted over you. The hostess led you both to a table and Bucky pulled out your chair for you to sit down. This all felt very date-like, but perhaps you just weren't used to encountering many true gentlemen. You ordered a glass of wine and Bucky got a beer, then you were left to peruse the menu.

"So, what's good?" you asked, peering across the table at him.

"Honestly? It's all pretty good. I have my favorites, though. Lasagna, Ravioli, Manicotti, good ol' Spaghetti and Meatballs, you can't go wrong. I will say, though, having fish in an Italian restaurant is not the best idea. I mean, it's not bad, it's just...not their forte," he said, using your same phrase from early that day, making you smile.

"Okay," you grinned, taking another look at your options with Bucky's advice in mind.

His voice brought your head up. "Oh, good! Clint's here tonight," he said, raising a hand in the direction of a man at the bar talking to a pretty woman in a well-fitting black dress. The man returned the wave and said a few last words to her before heading to your table.

"Bucky, hey, man. It's good to see you," the sandy-haired man as he approached and clasped the hand of your (maybe) date before pulling him in for a hug.

"Yeah, you too," Bucky replied, settling back into his chair. "Clint, this is Y/N. She's visiting from out of town. Y/N, this is my buddy Clint. He claims he's just a server, but we all know he practically runs this place," he smiled with a nudge to his friend.

Clint looked around and then leaned forward conspiratorially. "Don't let Bruce hear you say that. Not that he's here, but word gets around," he said with a wink.

Bucky chuckled lightly. "I saw Nat at the bar, you two still working things out?" he asked, tilting his head in the woman's direction.

Nat? You craned your neck and took a longer look at the woman in the black dress sipping a cocktail. It was Nattie! You hardly recognized her all dolled up with her hair down.

"Yeah. We're gonna talk after my shift. Not sure if the addition of alcohol will help or hurt the cause, but..." Clint trailed off with a shrug.

Bucky nodded with a knowing smile. "Well, good luck, man. You two are good together, I think you can make it."

"From your mouth to God's ears..." he muttered, then pulling out a pen and notepad. "So! What can I get you kids?"

The brunet nodded for you to go first.

"I'll have the lasagna with a garden salad. Ranch dressing, please?" you told the waiter, then turning to Bucky.

"I'll have the ravioli. And an order of garlic bread to share," he answered, handing his menu to Clint.

"Excellent," Clint said as he jotted down the details. "I'll get that started."

"Thank you," you said with a smile and he nodded before walking toward the kitchen.

____________

"Seriously? That's your favorite movie? He buys a sex doll online and then the whole town pretends she's real!" Bucky exclaimed, gesturing with his fork.

"Okay, first of all, it's literally impossible for me to pick only one favorite movie, more like top 5 in each genre. Secondly, "Lars and the Real Girl" is an incredible movie! She's not a sex doll to him. In his mind, she's real. Intentions are important. I mean, a hammer can be used to either build a beautiful house or to bludgeon someone to death with. It's not the object, it's the intention behind it," you explained, taking another bite of lasagna.

"Yeah, but there's the possibility of banging in either scenario," Bucky teased with a chuckle, resulting in getting a kick in the shin from you. "Ow! Okay, okay..."

"Did you even see the whole movie?" you asked accusingly.

He paused momentarily while chewing before he swallowed. "Well. I think I was on a date, so it's possible I missed a few key parts," he admitted with a blush.

"Uh huh..." you said with a raised eyebrow. "Well, anyway. Lars obviously has some sort of neuroatypical disorder that isn't specified, but that doesn't make him crazy to want a connection with someone. It may seem crazy that he talks to her and she responds according to him, but I hold entire conversations in my head sometimes. Even talk to myself. He needs a way to process his loneliness and social anxieties, so this is his way of working through that. The writers could have very well taken it in a gross, raunchy direction and they don't. Lars is sweet and considerate. He truly cares for her. Plus the way the whole town comes together in support of Bianca and by extension Lars, along with his family and the incredibly understanding doctor...it's just beautiful. Ryan Gosling's performance was incredible, too. I was in tears by the end," you admitted with no shame.

Bucky sat back in his chair. "Really? Hm. I might have to give it another chance. So, you write screenplays, is that what draws you into the movies?"

Munching on a mouthful of garlic bread, you glance off into the distance as you gathered your thoughts. "No...not entirely. I mean, a well-written screenplay is very important, but you also have to have the right actors, director, settings, wardrobe, editing....it's everything. All these parts need to fit together for a movie to work. A few elements can be off, and it ruins the whole thing. If a script is written with a certain actor in mind and they're not available, then that changes the tone. Or the director might not have the same vision as the writers. Also, the writing, directing, acting, etc. can all go according to plan but then it can fall apart in editing or sound mixing. Have you ever wondered why an actor could agree to be in a terrible movie? It's possible they didn't know it was terrible at the time. They read the script, did their part, and then the rest is post-production which they have no control over. It's all those intricate elements that make a movie worth seeing. I just want to be a part of it," you ended with a shrug.

Bucky sat across from you, having put his fork down sometime during your rant. Now he was just giving you a soft smile that somehow made you nervous.

"What?" you asked him when the silence became too much.

"Nothing, it's just..." he leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. "I love how your face lights up when you talk about this stuff. It's refreshing to see someone so passionate about their dreams. It's great. If you can get in a room with those movie executives, I know you'd be able to convince them of anything. Passion is contagious. You'll have L.A. eating out of your hand."

You were stunned for a moment, grateful for the faith he had in you. "Wow, um...thank you, Bucky. That means a lot to me," you said with a smile, then leaning forward. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Bucky matched your movement, moving closer with a nod and a smile.

"I have a meeting with a possible agent at the end of the week. He read one of my scripts and might offer to represent me. Isn't that insane?" you said in a whisper, not so much as to keep from being overheard, but more that if you voiced it too loudly, you may jinx it.

His face brightened in surprise and joy. "Wow! That's incredible, Y/N. Congratulations!"

You grinned widely. "Thanks. It's a long shot, but it's something, you know? But what about you? What are you passionate about? You said music was a big part of your life at one point. What draws you to music?" you asked, picking up your fork again. The food really was delicious.

He speared the last piece of ravioli on his plate and popped it into his mouth, then swallowing. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he set it on the table and fixed his cerulean gaze on you.

"You're right, music was a passion of mine. Still is, but in a different way. To me, music has always been...transformative. It can also hold a lot of weight and meaning, taking me back to a certain time and place. Almost like a time machine, if that makes sense. I mean, I can hear a certain song and suddenly in I'm back in a garage playing with my buddies. Or on a porch having my first kiss. Or laying underneath a car hearing a song I've heard a hundred times, but that time it hit me. Now that song has relevance. Weight. I never forget those moments," he shook his head for emphasis.

You were the one to sit back and smile this time. "Wow. Talk about passion," you said with a smirk.

Bucky smiled, his fingers tapped on the tabletop a few times in the silence. Reaching out your own hand, you gently brushed the calloused skin of his fingertips, stained permanently black. You looked down at your own fingernails that no amount of scrubbing could remove all the grease from. "Look, we match," you grinned, looking at both your clean but dirty-looking hands on display.

He matched your smile and grasped your hand briefly to inspect your nails, but then he didn't let go. He held your gaze a moment before he looked down at your empty plates and then noticed the empty tables around you. From the moment you sat down, conversation had flowed effortlessly. It felt like no time had passed and you wished this moment could stretch on forever. Looking at the clock, it seemed that the restaurant was about to close, so Bucky released your hand and finally signaled for the check. When it arrived, he snatched it before you could.

"Bucky..." you said, holding out a hand.

"No," he stopped you gently as he pulled bills out of his wallet. "If my dad did one thing right, it was to teach me that a gentleman always pays for dinner on a date."

_Well, there's your answer,_ you thought with heat in your cheeks. You resigned to let him pay and couldn't keep a smile off your face as you bid Clint and Nattie goodnight. Bucky led you back to the truck and opened your door once again. The short ride passed by mostly in comfortable silence. You wished there was something you could say to prolong the night. You wished the drive were longer. You wished for the words to immortalize this night. You wished for...more.

After he parked, Bucky walked you up to your room and lingered with you just outside the door. Fiddling with the key but unwilling to end the night, you turned his way and met his eye. Suddenly, you knew. There were no words. Only action. You took a step forward, then another until you were only inches apart. Bucky held his ground, keeping his eyes on yours as you heard a hitch in his breath. Gently placing a hand on the front of his shirt, you could feel the hard lines of his muscled chest. Your fingers caught on the buttons as you continued to brushed down the fabric gently.

Taking the last step, you closed the gap and pressed your lips to his softly. He quickly reciprocated, bringing his hands up to place on either side of your face. His lips caressed yours as your fingers buried themselves in his soft, chestnut tresses. Your tongue traced his bottom lip before he opened wide to you. The kiss deepened while heat consumed you, leaving you gasping for air after a few short minutes. You pulled back and held his gaze. Stepping away you grasped one of his hands in yours while the other slipped the key into the lock and turned. You stepped inside but before he could cross the threshold, he stopped, causing you to look back in question.

"Y/N. Are you sure?" he asked.

You stared at him a moment, his hair mussed and pupils blown wide in lust. Mostly likely, you looked just as wrecked from only a kiss. You needed more.

With a nodded, you pulled him forward and shut the door behind him. "I'm positive."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Surprise Avenger! :)
> 
> Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.
> 
> Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Fluff! Then some angst. Mentions of sex. 
> 
> Word Count: 3k

The moment the lock slid home, his arms were around you with soft, plush lips caressing yours. Bucky's large, calloused hands brushed down the side of your neck, then teased just under the collar of your shirt down toward your chest. As your fingers worked to unbutton his shirt, his fingers did the same with his mouth never leaving yours.

Slowly, you both walked in tandem toward the bed until your knees hit it. The drop to the mattress was more significant than you thought, though, a squeal escaping you as you both tumbled down in a heap. Squeaky springs compressed under your combined weight and you exhaled with an oof as Bucky landed half on top of you.

Laughter bubbled up in your chest and then escaped as Bucky joined you, finding humor in your graceless intimate moment. Bucky rolled his weight off you and onto his side while you remained on your back. He held your gaze as the hilarity faded and fire burned bright once again in his eyes.

"Shall we try that again?" he asked, grazing his knuckles down the side of your face tenderly.

With a bite of your lip, you nodded, raising a hand to brush a lock of hair behind his ear. You kicked off your sandals and he did the same with his shoes. Slowly he lowered his lips to yours and resumed unbuttoning your blouse with one nimble hand. You took your time undressing each other, one article of clothing at a time until you were bare to one another. His rough fingertips brushed over your sensitive skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Bucky went for his wallet, but you produced a string of foil packets from your bag first.

As two began to move as one, you knew it had never felt like this. You had never fit so perfectly with another man. He played your body like an instrument, each touch hitting just the right note. Bucky took his time as he mapped each dip and curve intimately until you began to reach your crescendo, his motions powerful and yet tender. Rising higher and higher before you both cried out and fell together, you collided into each other arms with chests heaving. Bucky held you close with a soft kiss to your forehead as you both rested a short time. It didn't take long until you both felt that heady desire once again, resulting in an encore or two before you fell asleep in each other's embrace, exhausted and happy.

________________

You awoke momentarily, the rhythmic sound of drumming invaded your senses. The steady sound gave you comfort, lulling you back to sleep. Some time later the calm beat increased to a staccato thundering, pulling you to consciousness. Slowly, you came to recognize the drumming sound as Bucky's heartbeat echoing in his ribcage, your head resting on his chest. He must have awoken as memories of last night flooded in, his heart rate speeding up just as yours began to do the same at first sight of his handsome face in the morning light.

"Good morning," he croaked with a smile.

You grinned bashfully as you stretched out sore legs, throwing an arm around his muscular torso and head resting on his shoulder. "Good morning to you, too."

Bucky brushed fingertips against your bare back as he propped his right hand under his head. You pressed a kiss to his firm pectoral muscle before turning your face toward him. A tender look in his eye, he leaned down to kiss your lips before falling back on the pillows with a contended sigh. The comfortable silence lingered as you basked in the warmth of the body beside you.

Curiosity finally getting the better of you, you propped yourself up on one elbow as you shifted slightly onto your stomach. With his bicep inches from your face, you began to trace the silvery white lines and curve that caught your attention the day before. They were noticeable only in the right light or up close. Raising your eyebrows at him in question, you wordlessly continued to caress his scarred skin.

"It's from a steam burn," he explained.

"What?" you asked, eyes wide. "How?"

He took a deep breath and brushed a thumb down your cheek before speaking. "I started working at my uncle's shop while I was still in high school. Simple stuff at first: working the counter, checking fluids, rotating tires, stuff like that. Well, one day, I popped the hood of a car and checked the oil, then I moved on to check the coolant levels. There's no dipstick for that, so you just have to open up the reservoir and peak in. If the liquid isn't visible, then it needs to be added. So I used my left hand to turn the knob for the radiator. Most cars these days have a failsafe where if the engine is still too hot and has pent up pressure, the knob locks and you can't turn it anymore. I thought this car was cool enough, but..."

You gasped, able to guess what happened next. "Oh, no..."

"Exactly. The car was older than I thought and it just didn't occur to me until the cap came off, pressure was released, and the steam shot up my arm and down my left side. I don't even remember what happened after that. They told me I was running around screaming in pain. They had to catch me and throw some cold water on me before I calmed down enough to get to the hospital," he said with a sigh.

Brushing your fingertips across his bearded cheek, Bucky captured his large hand in yours to kiss your palm. "Were you okay?" you asked quietly.

He quirked an eyebrow and shrugged. "Mostly. It was basically a third-degree burn but not bad enough to need skin grafts or anything. They did have to treat the burns every few days by scrubbing and wrapping the skin so scar tissue wouldn't form. That hurt like a bastard. But I was lucky. I must have closed my eyes at the right time because that could have damaged my eyesight. My face looked like I was sunburned for about a week. Scars aren't too bad, though, huh?" he asked, tilting his face as he flexed his bicep.

You shook your head, smiling, as you brushed your fingertips over the light scarring and pressed a kiss to the marked skin. Bucky grinned at you, grazing his knuckles across your bare arm that was draped across his chest. He tucked a finger under your chin and lifted off the pillows to kiss you. Deepening the kiss, you wove your fingers into his chestnut strands and tucked your knees under you, hovering over Bucky as his hands began to explore. Quickly, you found yourself straddling his waist and another round of lovemaking continued in earnest.

________________

Another tangle in the sheets later, you were both starving and in need of a shower. Ideally, you would have liked to "save some water" by sharing, but realistically the shower was small for even just you alone so Bucky went first and then you followed after. Exiting the bathroom wearing only a towel, you found Bucky lounging in his boxers with the tv on. You located a pair of clean underwear and then looked for something comfy to lounge around in when Bucky's discarded shirt caught your eye.

Picking it up off the floor, you smiled at Bucky, who had been watching you. "Do you mind?"

He smirked with that fire in his eyes. "Not at all."

Dropping the towel, you slipped the shirt on and buttoned it part way before jumping on the squeaky bed and cuddling into Bucky's side. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling your body closer as he flipped through the tv channels.

"So," you began, brushing a hand over his bare chest, "You're not going into work today?"

He shook his head. "I don't work on Sundays if I don't have to. Why? Do you want me to leave? Cause I can—" he had begun to sit up and swing a leg off the bed when you stopped him.

"Don't you dare!" you shouted as you wrapped both arms around his middle and tugged to keep him from leaving.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he settled back on the bed, pressing a kiss into your hair. "Okay. I'll stay."

You just smiled. Your comfortable moment of cuddling was interrupted by your growling stomach, making you duck your head in embarrassment.

"Well, I guess we both better fuel up after burning so many calories, huh?" Bucky joked as he tickled your side.

Wiggling out of his grasp in fits of laughter, you finally calmed down and sat cross-legged on the bed. "I don't want to go out," you said with a whine. "Does the diner deliver?"

"Nope," he shook his head with a frown. "But...we could call out for pizza..." he offered with a coy smile.

"Yes!" you shouted in excitement.

Bucky laughed. "Okay. How about you get some drinks from the vending machine and I'll call in the order?"

You slipped on sandals and shorts under Bucky's shirt, gathering all the spare change you two could find. Walking out the door and down the stairs, you located the vending machine around the corner from the office. Once the drinks had dispensed, you discovered that the cooling element in the machine was broken. Warm soda made you gag, so you walked back to the room, dropped off the drinks and grabbed the ice bucket before heading out again. Ice acquired, you were heading back to the room when a neighboring door opened to reveal Wanda wheeling a small cart of cleaning supplies.

"Wanda," you greeted her with a smile and she whirled around in your direction.

She started to speak with that unconvincing smile of hers when suddenly her eyes grew wide, taking in what you were wearing. Bucky's button-up shirt was drowning you, nearly covering your shorts underneath. You pulled the neck of the shirt close around you, suddenly self-conscious. Her face reddened in fury and she stamped her foot with a slight scream before stalking away without a word.

Confused and alarmed, you finally made it back to your room and slipped inside.

"Well, she officially hates me now," you declared, setting down the ice bucket and grabbing the complimentary cups to fill them.

"Who?" Bucky asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand.

"Wanda. I think she recognized your shirt and I'm pretty sure she still has a thing for you, Mr. Barnes," you smirked as he walked your way.

"Is that right?" he asked, to which you nodded. "Yeah, well, too bad for her. Cause I have a thing for you," he said suggestively as he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning in for a kiss.

You moaned against his lips, barely breaking contact to speak, "When's the pizza coming?"

"About 30 minutes," he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck.

"I think we can use that time wisely, don't you?" you smirked, pushing him back toward the bed until he fell to the mattress. You climbed on the bed with a knee on each side of his hips and you were lost in each other once again.

_______________

Bucky had barely slipped on his jeans over boxers, remaining shirtless, when there was a knock on the door. He swung it open to reveal a young man about 15 or 16 with his focus on the receipt he was reading.

"Alright, I've got two pies for you, one with— Buck!" he exclaimed as he looked up. "Hey, man, what are you doing he....oh," he answered his own question to see you lounging on the bed back in Bucky's shirt. Earlier it seemed like too much clothing, but now not enough as you tugged at the hem.

"Hey, Pete. This is Y/N. Y/N, this is Peter," he gestured from you to your new acquaintance, both of you awkwardly waving in response. "Thanks for the pizza, man. Say hi to your Aunt May for me," Bucky said as he handed him the cash and shut the door in the gawking teenager's face.

"You really do know everyone don't you, 'Buck'," you mocked lightly, sitting up as he placed the pizza boxes on the bed.

"The joys of a small town," he replied, settling next to you as he flipped the boxes open and the cheesy greasy smell hit your nose, making your mouth water. "Dig in!"

Once you both had your fill, you settled in to watch a movie, finally settling on an action movie with too many explosions and not enough plot. You sat against the headboard with your legs extended, Bucky had his head in your lap as you ran fingers through his thick brown hair. You'd long lost interest in the movie and a question popped into your mind.

"Hey, Bucky?" you asked and he sleepily moaned in response. "I promise this isn't meant as criticism but I'm curious...when was the last time you cut your hair?"

He let out a deep sigh, thinking. "About...two years I guess?"

"Can I ask why? No good barber's in town?" you joked.

Bucky smiled lightly as he rolled onto his back to look up at you. "No. It's just...I haven't cut it since I got out of the army," he stated as fact, grasping your free hand in his.

"What?" you exclaimed in surprise. "I didn't know you were in the military." Although, honestly, there was probably a lot you didn't know about him.

"Yeah. When things were stable with my uncle at the shop, I joined up, hoping it would pay for school and offer a steady income to send home. I didn't mind it most of the time. Learned some new skills and met some buddies I still keep in contact with. In fact, I fixed quite a few of the military vehicles, showing up the engineering guys sometimes," he remembered with a smile. "My one pet peeve was the haircuts. Our C.O. —uh, commanding officer, he was a stickler for uniform and haircuts. Always buzz cuts. I hated it, so I rebelled in my own way and tried to grow it out. I hid it under hats and bandanas sometimes, but he'd catch it and reprimand me. It's silly, but when your whole life is rules and orders, the little individual things matter. So when I served my time, I swore I'd grow it out. And I have," he finished with a smile as he met your eye.

You let the silence linger a moment as you continued to play with his strands. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"Would you trust me to trim your hair? Just a tiny bit? It'll grow out faster and more even. I'm good, I promise..." you trailed off with a hopefully grin.

He narrowed his eyes at you for a time, then conceding. "Okay. I trust you. But just a trim!"

"Scout's honor," you answered seriously.

Ten minutes later, you found yourself in the small hotel bathroom with Bucky seated in a chair. You had changed into one of your own shirts to move around in a little better. After wetting his hair, you combed through it gently and set out to trim off the split ends and even out both sides. It didn't take long as Bucky followed you with his eyes, watching you in your element. Although cutting hair wasn't your first love, you had to admit you were good at it.

As you were finishing up, you grasped Bucky's chin and turned his face from side to side to check the length. His hair now fell to just above his shoulders and looked much more healthy. "Done!"

Bucky looked in the mirror, inspecting your handiwork and then replying with a smile, "Looks great, babe. Thank you." He pecked a kiss to your lips as he pulled the hair-covered towel from his shoulders and shook it into the bathtub.

Gathering up your tools, you breached a subject that had been rolling around in your head most of the day. "So, what do you do for fun in this town?"

Bucky was helping to gather up the fallen hair on the floor and looked up at you. "Um...I don't know. There's the bowling alley or I'll grab a drink at a bar. My buddies and I get together to watch football sometimes or shoot pool. It's a pretty quiet town, though. Why?"

Keeping your back to him at the counter, you voiced your nervous thoughts. "Well...I thought maybe after work tomorrow we could do something. Bowling could be fun. I'm pretty terrible, but—"

"Wait," he interrupted. "You want to...stay?"

You shrugged, trying to remain casual. "I mean, maybe a day or two. Thought I could complete the tourist experience and finish helping you. I made an agreement, after all."

Bucky stood from his crouched position, dumping the hair in the garbage can. "I thought you were leaving right after your car was fixed Monday morning. You have a tight schedule to keep, right?" he asked, avoiding your gaze.

"I have a little wiggle room. I just...I really like you, Bucky. I don't want to say goodbye just yet," you said, finally voicing the nagging timeline that had been lingering in the back of your mind. You wanted more time. You wanted more HIM.

"Y/N..." he said with a sigh. "I like you, too, but...we have to be realistic. I thought we both knew what this was," he spoke soberly.

Pausing at the zipper of your hair kit, you felt something break inside you. "Oh. So it's just a quick _'wham, bam, thank you ma'am'_ , is that it?" you said, whirling around angrily to face him. "You've had your weekend of fun with the out-of-towner and you don't want her hanging around cramping your style? Well, excuse me for thinking we actually had something here, a genuine connection," you snapped with tears in your eyes, quickly exiting the bathroom.

"That's not what I..." he began, following you out toward the bed area. "Of course we really have something. This has all meant so much....YOU mean so much to me. I never would have thought it could happen in just a few days. But what's gonna change in a few days more? We become more attached, making it harder to say goodbye? Or maybe two days becomes a week or a month or...I don't know. I'm just saying, you didn't leave one small town just to get stuck in another. You're meant for more that this, Y/N," he told you sincerely, lightly gripping your upper arms for emphasis.

You held his gaze, eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. "So are you," you said quietly, voice quivering.

"What?"

"You're meant for more than this small town, too," you declared louder this time, grasping his face in your hands.

"I don't underst—"

"Come with me."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Natasha, Surprise Avenger! :)
> 
> Summary: Your dreams of kissing your small town life goodbye are about to come true when an unexpected detour leaves you stranded. Meeting the handsome local mechanic has you rethinking your plans. Perhaps happiness is less about where you’re headed and more about the people you meet along the way.
> 
> Song Inspiration: Sleep on the Floor by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Angst and then a bit of fluff. Mentions of sex. 
> 
> Word Count: 2.7k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just keep in mind, this is not the end. :) Hope you enjoy it.

_"You're meant for more than this small town, too," you declared louder this time, grasping his face in your hands._

_"I don't underst—"_

_"Come with me."_

_____________

"What did you just say?" Bucky asked, taking a step back.

"Bucky," you began calmly, since you had blurted it out too quickly the first time. "I want you to come with me. To L.A."

With a dazed look, he slipped from your grasp, taking halting steps backwards until he reached the bed and sat down. "Are you serious?" he asked, finally meeting your gaze.

"Yes."

"You want me to come to L.A. and...do what?" he questioned.

You felt a spark of excitement then, thinking he might actually be considering your proposal. "I don't know. They have auto shops there, if that's what you still want to do. And they have auditions for guitarists all the time! You could do gigs at night and work during the day," you said as the possibilities flowed from your mind. You walked over and took a seat facing him, grasping one of his hands. "That's the beauty of this adventure, Bucky. You can do whatever you want."

"Where would we live?" he asked, giving your hand a squeeze.

Nerves bubbled up at the thought of co-habitating with Bucky, even if that's not what he meant. "Um...I don't know. I plan on staying in a cheap hostel for a few days while I checked out places. People are always looking for roommates to lower the rent. I've looked it up online and there are always short-term vacancies until you find something more permanent. So what do you say?" you grinned, full of hope.

Bucky stood then and took a few steps, running hands through his hair. He was still shirtless, thick ropes of muscle visible under his tanned skin as he moved. The thought of not having to say goodbye spread a warmth of happiness through your whole body. Could this really be happening? Could you get the guy AND chase your dreams?

He let his arms drop as he turned your way, his expression stopping you cold. "I can't," he whispered with his gaze on the stained carpet.

"What?" you uttered quietly. "Wh—why not?"

"Why not?" he repeated, disbelief shading his features. "Y/N, I have a life here, a job, family. I just...I can't leave for the hell of it."

"I did," you almost shouted, slight wavering in your voice. "Bucky, we're young. We both have our whole lives ahead of us. Now is the time to take risks, have adventures, even make mistakes. I may have a dream and a plan, maybe a small chance at success but even then, I am fully aware that I might fail. I could get there and fall flat on my face. But you know what? I'd rather fail than stay in one place the rest of my life, wondering what might have been," you finished, boldly holding his gaze.

Bucky huffed out a sigh, crossing arms over his sculpted chest. "Not all of us have that kind of conviction, Y/N," he spoke quietly. "Some people are just meant for smaller lives."

"Really?" you said, standing up from the bed. "This is it for you? This small town, knowing all the same people your whole life, never experiencing anything new, you're okay with that? There's nothing more you'd like to see or do?"

You saw Bucky hesitate, chewing on his lip for a moment. Taking that as an opportunity, you closed the distance between you and looped your arms around his trim waist.

"Bucky. I see you. I see your big heart and handsome smile and charismatic spirit. You've folded yourself down to fit into this small town life. Aren't you at least a little bit curious what might happen if you allowed yourself to just...let go? Explore? Find out all that you can become?" you asked, grasping his chin so he would look your way but his eyes remained off in the distance.

Silence hung in the stale evening air as you watched the wheels turn in his handsome head. Finally he clenched his jaw and shook his head, unhooking your arms from around his waist as he created space between you.

"No. I can't. I don't have those dreams anymore. I have the shop and my mom and sisters....this is my life now. It's not right for you to try and make me feel like it's not enough," he spoke quickly as he grabbed his shirt off the bed and slipped into it.

"Bucky..." you said, pleading as you reached toward him.

He evaded your grasp as he picked up his shoes and headed for the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. "I'll have your car ready by 10. It's probably best if you hit the road after that," he said with finality, swinging the door open and closing it behind him before you could get out a word.

Staring at the closed door, you let yourself sink to the floor beside the bed as the tears began to fall.

_________________

Morning came and you were surprised to see light filtering through the curtains. You didn't know how the sun could still rise and the birds sing when you felt like your world had already crumbled around you. How could the past three days have become so life-changing? How could a man you didn't even know the week before become both the wind in your sails and the rocks you had found yourself crashing against?

With sluggish movements, you stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom where you were met with your exhausted reflection. Your eyes were red and swollen from both crying and the few hours you had slept. Splashing some cold water on your face and taking a shower, you felt a little better. You dressed and attempted to hide the circles under your eyes.

Packing up your toiletries and clothing, you zipped your bags before taking a seat on the bed to look around. The sheets still smelled like him. He had left behind a hair tie on the nightstand with the empty pizza box from last night on the floor beside it. The hotel room felt like a time capsule, a frozen moment where your time together had existed. Taking a step outside meant leaving it all behind and letting go.

Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was nearly 9am. Check out time wasn't until 10:30, but you feared Wanda may somehow take advantage of a seconds-late check-out time and charge you for it after your latest interaction. If only she knew how it all had changed. You were unable to sit still any longer anyway, so you picked up your bags and left the room without looking back.

Stepping into the office, you expected to see a disgruntled Wanda, but instead you were met with a tall, silver-haired young man at the computer.

"Morning, I'm Pietro," he greeted you. "Checking out?"

You simply nodded, sliding the key across the counter toward him.

"Room 17..." he muttered searching the computer. "Ah, Ms. (Y/L/N). Oh."

He seemed to put the pieces together as he took in your bedraggled appearance. He let out a slight smirk at you, but kept his thoughts to himself. He probably couldn't wait to tell his sister how you left town with your tail between your legs. It didn't matter, though. You paid for your three-night stay in cash and left without a word.

Lugging your bags a few blocks, you arrived at the diner and settled in a booth after saying hello to Nattie behind the counter. She arrived at your table with her usual bright smile, but it dimmed as her gaze met your red, saddened eyes.

"Hey, hun. Heading out today?" she asked, seeing your bags and pouring you coffee without asking.

You nodded, gripping the warm mug with both hands with eyes focused on the dark liquid inside.

Nattie paused a moment, then lowering herself into the booth to sit across from you and setting the coffee pot on the table. "It's probably not my place, but...you two looked cute together. It's never easy. I'm sorry to see you go so soon."

"Thanks," you answered thickly with a sniffle.

She reached across the table and patted your hand with hers before standing. "How 'bout I have them whip you up something special for breakfast? Hm?" she offered.

You let out the smallest of smiles. "Sure."

A special breakfast turned out to be pancakes with fruit for a face and whip cream hair. It made you smile and what little you could stomach tasted delicious. As you asked for your check, you also requested a piece of boysenberry pie to go. It was just after 10am when you left the diner and shouldered your bags for the walk toward the auto shop. Your heart ached as you stepped into the office and left your bags on one of the chairs in the waiting room.

Bucky was helping a customer at the counter. He had met your eye when the bell above the door jangled as you entered, but you quickly glanced away, pulling out your wallet and waiting your turn to pay.

"Thanks for coming in, Mr. Coulson. We'll see you and Lola next time," Bucky said with a smile.

The balding man at the counter nodded in farewell, "A pleasure as always, Mr. Barnes." As he turned your way, he slipped on a pair of sunglasses and you took in the dark suit and tie he was wearing. There was something a little odd about him, like he held all the secrets you ever wanted to know and he relished in it. He walked passed you with an all-knowing smile and the door jangled again as he exited, leaving you and Bucky alone.

Without a word, you approached the counter, keeping your eyes downcast. Bucky reached for your paperwork behind him and slid it toward you. Fishing out the cash needed, you slid it toward him and he took a moment to count out your change before dropping it in your hand with a graze of his fingers against your palm. You had glanced at the list of charges on your bill and of course, Bucky had been even more generous than promised but you weren't going to argue. He was a better man than you'd ever met and at that moment, you knew you didn't deserve him.

Finally giving in, you glanced up to meet his eyes, seeing light shadows as evidence of lost sleep under his eyes as well. You saw nothing but kindness there and you couldn't hold it in any longer. A sob bubbled up in your throat until it burst with your words of apology.

"I'm sorry," you said thickly through your tears. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to..."

"I know," he spoke quietly, walking around the counter until you were enveloped in his strong, familiar arms. "I know you didn't mean to put down this small town life and I shouldn't have left the way I did. It's just...you struck a nerve. Your passion and conviction almost made me want to forget it all and say yes and...it scared me."

Lifting your head from where it had been resting on his chest, you sniffled. "Really?"

He nodded, caressing a hand across your back. "I haven't let myself want anything more in...I don't know how long. I really wish it was that simple, to just leave it all behind."

"Me, too," you whispered with a teary smile.

He pulled you close again, relishing the quiet comfort of being in each others' arms. After a few moments, you pulled away just enough to meet his eye, then pressing a lingering kiss to his soft lips. You never wanted to forget the feeling of electricity fizzling in your veins.

Breaking the silence, you spoke, "I need to show you something. Do you have a minute?"

He nodded and slipped out of your grasp. "Hang on," he said, walking toward the front door where he flipped a sign that said 'Back in 5 minutes'.

You clasped his hand in yours and walked behind the counter toward the back office. Taking a few minutes, you showed him the work you had done and how much easier the business side of things should be from now on with a bit of organization. Bucky was impressed and assured you he would do his best to keep it that way. It was a small thing, but you were glad to be a small part of his life after you left.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said, squeezing your hand in his.

"You're welcome," you replied, feeling calmer than you had all morning.

"Anything else to show me?" he asked, feeling as uneasy about saying goodbye as you were.

A sly smile spread across your face then, causing Bucky to furrow his brow in confusion.

"What?"

"There's just...one more thing on my to-do list," you said with a grin, leading him out of the office and into the cavernous garage. You walked past the line of cars, some with hoods propped open along with your own vehicle, all fixed up and ready to go.

"Y/N, what—"

You glanced back, putting a finger up to your mouth as you kept walking to the far end of the garage and into the little alcove hidden from sight. Stepping up into the car frame, Bucky followed you, still confused. That is until you gave him a light shove causing him to take a seat on the black leather bench seat with you straddling him seconds after. Your lips found his as your hands brushed down his muscular torso and sought the warm skin under his shirt to remove it.

Bucky had caught on by then and quickly rid you of your own top, his large hands gripping your hips shortly after. You broke the kiss only out of need for breath as you lifted your face heavenward, his lips nibbling at the sensitive skin of your neck.

Letting out a breathless laugh, he muttered against your skin, "This has always been a fantasy of mine."

You threaded your fingers into his hair, pulling his head back to meet your lips again. "What, you've never been with someone in a car before?" you asked in surprise, grasping at his belt buckle.

"Well...not in THIS car," he smirked, recapturing your lips.

Sinking your knees into the soft black leather to settle closer to his hips, you felt like the wide back seat of a sexy, classic car was made for this sort of behavior.

"Then, I'm glad I get to leave a lasting impression," you smiled against his lips, "And I've fantasized about this, too."

Finding your shared rhythm and both panting in the hot sticky air of the garage, your body reached its blazing peak and he followed you shortly after. You clung to one other for a while as your sweat-covered skin began to cool in the stillness. You pressed one last kiss to his lips, foreheads meeting as you held his gaze. In that moment, you had never felt so in tune with anyone. Mind, body, heart and soul.

______________

An hour later, the scenery slipped past in a blur as a warm breeze whipped through your hair with an arm dangling out the open window. The radio struggled to hold a signal, static cutting in every other word, but you hadn't noticed. Your mind was still in a hot garage with the man who had changed everything. Although your plans remained the same, something in you had shifted.

Driving westward, your car now was running better than it ever had the 10 days you had owned it. He must have done more than replace your radiator and you weren't surprised.

Outwardly, you were still a girl from a small town headed to the big city with big plans and even bigger dreams. But inside, you now knew there was more to small town living than you had ever considered.

Your only souvenir from your memorable weekend was a half-eaten slice of pie resting on the passenger's seat that would be devoured shortly, the package to be tossed at the next stop. The memories, though...those you would never let go.

____________

_More to come...._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Surprise Avengers! :)
> 
> Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind. 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Fluff! Tiny bit of angst. Mentions of death. 
> 
> Word Count: 3.2k

_Two Years Later_

Warm, salty sea air caressed your face and tousled your hair in the early light. Resting your mug of coffee on the porch railing, you let your gaze wander over the sprawling city toward the rolling hills and beyond. It was in the stillness of the morning where you allowed yourself to marvel in the fact that you now called this place home. In a few weeks, it would be two years since you arrived Los Angeles without a clue and barely a plan. It was amazing to think back on the path you had taken, the struggles you've had, and the sacrifices you have made.

Pressing the mug to your lips, you took a sip and felt a presence behind you seconds before a pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist.

"The ocean is that way, you know," he teased, hooking his thumb in the direction behind you.

Turning around inside his embrace, you peaked over his broad shoulder to see the large expanse of glittering blue water in your changed view. "Ah. There it is," you replied with a smile. "Good morning."

He muttered a morning greeting to you as well, pressing a kiss to your lips as his light blond scruff scratched your cheek lightly. "I've seen you do that before. Gaze toward the East like it holds all the answers. Why is that?" he questioned with his handsome brow slightly furrowed.

You let out a sigh with a shrug. "I'm not sure. Guess I'm still waiting for those answers," you spoke vaguely.

He eyed you for a moment, then pulling you in for a tight squeeze. "It's just after 7, by the way, don't you have that meeting at 8?"

"Damn, you're right. I better get going," you uttered, releasing his arms and pecking another kiss on his plush lips. You brushed past him, grinning at his blond bedhead. Very few got to see Steve in this imperfect state and you loved it.

You moved around each other in the bathroom and bedroom as you both got ready for the day. Selecting a pair of shoes, you slipped them on as you called out from inside your walk-in closet. "Steve, did you make a reservation for tonight?"

"Yes, I did. Last week," he confirmed, appearing in the doorway. "Your car is waiting out front."

"Thank you," you replied while looping earrings in your ears. Grabbing your bag, you took one last look in the mirror and headed for the door. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Good luck!" he called back as the door closed behind you.

____________

"Babe, we have to go, they'll give away our table. You know how these new restaurants are. "

"No, they won't. I'll be out in 5 minutes."

"You said that 20 minutes ago," you chastised Steve, still in disbelief that he spent more time in front of a mirror than you do. Tapping your fingers on the side table as you perched on the couch, you checked the time on your phone once again. It was then that you noticed a text notification you had missed, now knowing your ringer must have been off. As you opened it, your heart sank.

"But well worth the wait," Steve boldly declared with arms out and offering a full view of his muscular frame in a perfectly fitted suit. He did look amazing, but you were distracted and he picked up on your stricken expression. "What's wrong?"

You stood then, ripping your eyes from your phone screen. "My uncle died."

"Oh, Y/N. I'm so sorry," he offered as he stepped in front of you, rubbing a hand of comfort on your bare upper arm. "Is this on your mom or dad's side?" he asked. Steve knew quite a bit about your family, despite never having met them.

"Actually...he's not a blood relation. More like...a friend of the family. Honorary uncle," you replied, the wheels turning in your head now. "The funeral is in a few days. I think I can shift a few things around..."

"You're going?" Steve asked in surprise. "You haven't been back since you moved here, right?"

You shook your head. "I guess this is what it takes."

"Are you ready for that?"

Taking a deep breath, you met his eyes. "Yes. I think it's time."

Twenty minutes later, you had changed out of your dress and into lounge pants. You had quickly bought a plane ticket for early the following morning and now placed an open suitcase on the bed. Steve watched you pack from his perch at the foot of the bed. Still dressed in his suit with each perfect strand of hair in place, you took in his sparkling blue eyes and chiseled jaw. He was made for this town and you still couldn't believe he picked you.

"So, you'll be driving part of the way?" he asked, his eyes following your many trips from the closet and dresser as you placed each item in your bag.

"Yep. The soonest flight had a connection in Denver, anyway," you muttered with a finger to your lips as you scanned the mental list of everything you needed.

"How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"I'm not sure," you answered with a shrug. "I have to be back by Sunday at the latest. I moved all my meetings to next week, so..."

You saw him shift nervously out of the corner of your eye. "You know...I could come with you, if...if you want," he offered in a soft tone.

Frozen in place near the dresser, you turned his way but kept your gaze on the contents of your suitcase. "That's sweet of you. Steve..." you began, knowing this had to be said but that you almost felt crazy for feeling this way. "Maybe we should...cool things down a little. I mean, I'll be gone this week and you leave town at the end of the month..."

There was only silence and when you finally dared to look his way, you were surprised to see a soft smile upon his lips. "What's his name?"

Your mouth gaped open in shock. "Wha...I mean, who?" you asked when your power of speech returned.

"Come on, Y/N. We've been apart for long periods of time without one worrying about the other. The only reason I can think of is that you worry about running into an old flame and wanting to do the right thing by going unattached. You've always been straight-forward with me. It's one of the first things that drew me to you."

Fiddling with a camisole as you folded it again inside your suitcase, you thought back to when you received the news. Sadness hit you first, followed quickly by a need to be around family to give and receive comfort. Not long after was a flicker of an image behind your eyes: a kind smile and a pair of grey-blue eyes framed by damp brunet locks freshly cut by your hand. "Bucky," you finally spoke as you met Steve's eyes. "His name is Bucky."

He nodded in understanding as he stood. "How did you meet him?"

You were reluctant to share at first, telling the barest of details but once you began it all spilled out. That first meeting by the side of the road next to your broken-down car, your time spent in that small town and the people you met, and how quickly he became so important to you that he nearly derailed your plans. Hardly a day that went by where you didn't think about Bucky, even after all this time.

Steve listened to your story in silence, holding your hand in his for comfort. You now sat on the bed side by side as you described your goodbyes with Bucky, although you edited out the car sex in the Impala for Steve's benefit. "I'm sorry," you uttered, staring at his fingers threaded with yours in your lap.

"Don't be," he shook his head. "We all have that one person that we think about, wondering what might have been. The one that got away."

You stood up suddenly then, hands flying to your hair. "This is crazy! It was one weekend two years ago and I'm willing to let you go for the smallest of chances? I mean, he's probably married with kids by now. I doubt he'll even remember me..."

"Hey, hey," Steve stepped to your side. "If he spent even an hour with you, then he'd remember you, I know it. And...I think you should go for it. I want to be with you but I want ALL of you. If you don't go, he'll always be there. You'll always wonder. What kind of a name is Bucky anyway?"

You let out a small laugh. "It's a nickname. His first name is James."

"Oh. How do you get 'Bucky' out of 'James'?" Steve asked, perplexed.

Searching your memories, you had a moment of realization. "Um...I don't know. I never thought to ask."

"Well. Another question to be answered," Steve said with a smile.

You exhaled, releasing the tension that had built up over the past hour. Wrapping your arms around Steve, you curled into him with your head on his chest. He always gave the most amazing hugs. "Thank you. I'll call you."

"I hope you will," he muttered, pressing a kiss into your hair before he let go and turned to leave.

"Steve," you called out quickly and he turned your way. "What's her name?"

He offered a half-smile, his eyes unfocused in remembrance. "Peggy."

On that note he walked away and left you to finish packing.

__________________

_When you left this town, with your windows down_  
And the wilderness inside  
Let the exits pass, all the tar and glass  
Till the road and sky align...

Less than 24 hours later, you were alone on a long stretch of empty highway with the wind in your hair. After touching down in Denver, you rented a car and headed East with butterflies in your stomach. It was true, most of the available flights did have a transfer in Denver but you could have flown to a city an hour away from your home town where your mom could pick you up. Instead you decided to make the drive alone.

Truthfully, you missed driving on the open road. You drove sometime in L.A. but it was more traffic than actual driving. You hadn't seen another car in an hour and it was heavenly. You had gotten used to the traffic and people and hustle of L.A., but you did miss the wide open spaces at times. As the city signs passed with decreasing numbers of miles until you would reach them, your stomach did a flip when a certain name popped up.

Despite your talk with Steve the night before, you had convinced yourself that you would drive right through to your mother's house. After all this time, you must have built up that one weekend to be much more than it was and now you felt that revisiting that town would bring it all crashing down. Was it better to keep the memories untouched or find out the truth of the present?

As often as you thought about him, you two hadn't had any contact since you left town that Monday morning. You had the number for the auto shop saved in your phone and every now and then, you found your finger hovering over the call button. You also knew that Bucky had your number saved in a file somewhere. He could have easily contacted you, but somehow he came to the same conclusion: hearing the other's voice didn't make the miles between you shrink. It was best to leave that weekend in the past.

However, as you reached the exit you found yourself putting on your turn signal and leaving the highway without much thought. Your unconscious mind knew what you had to do. It was just to say hello, you told yourself. Nothing more.

Turning into the dusty parking lot, you spotted him. He had his back to you as he leaned over to talk to someone in a car. You watched him say a few parting words before the car pulled away and he raised a hand in your direction. You heard his voice as you shakily opened the car door and stepped out.

"Evening. I'm about to close up shop for the night and from the purr of that engine, I can't imagine you're in need of my services so, what can I do for.....Y/N?" he asked in disbelief as he recognized you.

Pushing sunglasses up on top of your head, you greeted him with a smile. "Hi, Bucky."

As the shock wore off, a wide grin grew on Bucky's face as he rushed toward you, gathering you in a hug that swept you off your feet. Giggling in surprise, you held on to him as he spun you around once before settling you onto your feet again.

"Wow. It's so good to see you. You look incredible, Y/N. Almost didn't recognize you," Bucky said, taking a step back to look you over.

Glancing down at your own outfit, you thought back to the tattered shorts and t-shirts you had worn back then. Now, you were dressed in a classy pair of capris and wedged sandals with a white t-shirt and a blazer on top. Your hair style had changed as well along with the simple makeup you wore.

"I'm happy to see you, too, Bucky," you grinned. "You look..."

"...grease-covered and sweaty? So about the same?" he laughed.

You joined in with a chuckle. "Well, if anyone can pull off that look it's you."

There was a small lull in silence as you took in the reality of seeing him again.

"So, what brings you back to these parts?" he asked with hands stuffed in his jeans pockets.

You opened your mouth to answer, but in that moment a fat drop of water landed on your shoulder followed by a few on your head and arms. Glancing at Bucky, he had his face raised to the sky, now noticing the dark clouds that had gathered. You had checked the forecast from the road and you thought you had more time before the storm hit.

"Come inside for a minute," Bucky beckoned and you followed, barely stepping in the shop door before the heavens opened.

"Wow. Where did that come from?" you wondered, watching in awe as a sheet of water fell, obstructing the view across the street.

"Looks like you've forgotten how quickly storms can creep up on you," he teased, handing you a clean towel that you used to dab your face.

"I'm here for a funeral," you answered, turning away from the rain-splattered windows.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Who passed?" Bucky asked in concern.

"My uncle. Sort of. More of a family friend," you spoke, wandering around the waiting room. It hadn't changed much since you last saw it.

Before Bucky responded, a younger voice was heard echoing in the garage as it headed your way. "I'm heading out, Mr. Barnes. Unless you need me to..." the teenaged boy trailed off upon seeing you.

"Peter, you remember Y/N. Y/N, this is Peter. He's been helping out in the shop a few days a week," Bucky explained.

"Hi, Peter. Nice to see you again," you replied.

"I, um..hi, ma'am, it's good to, uh...." he cleared his throat, probably remembering the last time he saw you wearing only Bucky's shirt. Probably burned in his memory for life.

Bucky saved Peter from his awkward moment. "You can go on home, Pete. You're not riding your bike in this, though, I hope."

"N—no. Mr. Dugan is giving me a ride," Peter stammered.

Another man stepped into the front office just then, almost filling the wide doorway. He was barrel-chested with a ruddy complexion and the most spectacular mustache you'd ever seen. In his hands was a bowler hat, which you had never seen outside of a period film.

"Did you want me to lock up, Buck, or...Oh. Didn't know you had company. Tim Dugan," he introduced himself, offering his hand.

You shook it, "Y/N (Y/L/N). Nice to meet you."

"Y/N...wait, isn't that the girl..."

"Thanks, Pal, I'll lock up," Bucky interrupted loudly with a hard clap on his buddy's back.

"Okay. Night, boss," Dugan responded with a wink, donning his hat and stepping outside with Peter in tow.

"Anyway," Bucky continued, "I'm sorry to hear about your uncle. Did you make the drive, or..."

"Part of the way. I flew into Denver and then rented a car. Although, I'm not sure I can drive the rest of the way in this. I haven't driven in the rain in...well, anyway. A long time. I don't even know where the windshield wipers are in that car," you said, taking another look outside. "I wonder if I should get a room and wait for it to pass. My mom was expecting me tonight, though...Hopefully Wanda doesn't remember me," you joked as you turned back toward him.

He pulled a face. "Oh she'll definitely remember you. Doubt she'd want your business. Or mine, for that matter," he smiled sheepishly.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Why? What happened?"

He shook his head, "I'll tell you later. Maybe you could hunker down at my place for a few hours? I can give you a ride."

You cheeks warmed at the thought of his place, then turning back toward the windows. "Are you sure?" you asked, more a question for yourself than him.

"Yeah, it's no problem. Here, take my keys, the truck is around the side of the garage. I'll lock up real quick and join you," he said, handing you the keys.

"Do you have an umbrella or something?" you looked around.

He did the same, coming up empty, then handing you the previous day's newspaper with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes with a smile. "Thanks."

He chuckled and walked back into the office. Taking a deep breath, you clutched your purse to your chest and held the newspaper over your head, despite knowing staying dry was a lost cause. Opening the door with a push of your hip, you stepped outside into the deluge of rain and ran in your wedges to the pick up truck. Slipping the key in, you unlocked the door and jumped inside, dropping the wet newspaper to the floor.

You waited a few minutes until the driver's side door opened with a squeak and Bucky slid inside. Shaking his head, water droplets sprayed in your direction making you squeal in laughter, shielding your already damp self.

Bucky threw you a wide grin, feeling a familiar warmth inside you grow despite the chill seeping in from your wet clothes. He held out a hand and you gave him the keys with the engine roaring to life seconds later.

"Ready?"

"Ready," you replied, wondering what this unexpected night would bring.

 

______________

_Well, it sounds like L.A. has been good to her, huh? Were you surprised to see who she was with out on the balcony? Do you think her gamble is worth it? That rain came out of nowhere, huh? ;) That truck ride should be interesting! I'd love to hear your thoughts! <3_


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Wanda and Pietro (mentioned)
> 
> Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind. 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Fluff!!!! 
> 
> Word Count: 3.4k

Conversation was impossible on the ten minute drive to Bucky's place. The loud thundering of rain pelting the truck's roof along with Bucky's need to concentrate on the road with very little visibility, you resigned yourself to silence. You didn't mind though. It gave you a chance to unabashedly stare at the man you hadn't seen in two years, and yet you instantly still felt that comfort and ease in his presence.

Bucky was right, he hadn't changed much. His hair was a bit longer with a few more laugh lines around his eyes, but you found that they made him even more attractive. One of your first observations, though, was the lack of a ring on his finger. That still wasn't a definitive answer to a question you had yet to voice, though.

Bucky turned off the main road and drove half a mile before he pulled in front of a small one-story house. Although he probably would have opened your door for you under normal circumstances, instead you jumped out the second the truck was in park and ran for the porch with your purse tucked under your blazer. Bucky was right behind you, quickly unlocking the door and ushering you inside.

He flicked on a light and you glanced around. The house was cozy and definitely a bachelor pad. To your left was the kitchen and dining area with mismatched chairs, to the right was the living room with a tv and a sagging couch. There was a hallway directly ahead, presumably leading to the rest of the house.

"It's not much, but it's home," Bucky uttered humbly.

"It's great," you replied with a grin. "Very...you."

Bucky smiled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. He toed out of his heavy work boots and you did the same, slipping off your soaking wet wedge sandals and leaving them by the door. Bucky walked further into the house, flipping on lights and attempting to tidy up a bit. He clearly wasn't expecting company.

Picking up a shirt from the couch and kicking a stray pair of shoes into the bedroom, he then turned your way. "Make yourself comfortable. I can get towels or blankets, whatever you need to—"

As he was tidying up, you had placed your purse on the table and removed your sopping wet blazer to hang on a chair. When Bucky abruptly stopped speaking and his eyes flew to the ceiling, you looked down and noticed that your white shirt wasn't as dry as you thought. The fabric clung to you and was now see-through, showing more of your undergarments than you would like. Quickly you retrieved your blazer and hugged it against your chest.

"Sorry! Um...I should have grabbed my suitcase from the car or something, I didn't mean to..." you trailed off in regret.

Blushing, Bucky's gaze remained above your head just in case, "It's, uh...no problem. Um...do you want some dry clothes to borrow? I can throw yours in the dryer if you'd like."

"That would be great, actually," you replied, face still hot in embarrassment.

"Okay," he answered, whirling around to the bedroom. He returned with a pair of sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt, handing them to you.

Accepting the dry clothes, you still kept one hand on the blazer against your chest. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. You can change in the bathroom down the hall on the left."

"Actually," you wanted to ask, but felt a bit odd about it, "would you mind if I used your shower? I've been traveling all day and now with the rain and mud..."

"Of course!" he spoke quickly. "Yeah, anything you need. Are you hungry? I can whip something up," he offered, clasping his hands in front of him as if he didn't know where to put them.

"Oh, you don't have to, I ate at the airport. I'm not sure what time that was though..." You thought back over the day filled with a blur of travel, now feeling the emptiness of your stomach.

"It's no trouble, I promise. I need to eat anyway and I tend to make a lot for leftovers. I'll get that started while you shower," he said with a smile, meeting your eye.

"That sounds great," you replied with a smile of your own, then retreating to the bathroom.

Finally feeling warm and clean after a hot shower, you slipped on the sweats and tied them around your waist, then pulling the shirt over your head. You couldn't stop yourself from pulling the fabric up to your nose and inhaling. The shirt smelled of laundry detergent but also something distinctly Bucky. You had noticed it in the cab of his truck but upon stepping foot in the house, you were overwhelmed by it. The scent was warm and woody with a hint of spice and engine grease. Memories flooded back to that hotel room all those years ago.

You brought yourself to the present and tamed your damp hair the best you could before stepping out into the hallway toward the kitchen. Bucky had his back to you as he stood at the stove, stirring something. You watched for a moment as he moved about the kitchen, checking on something in the oven before he returned to stirring. Turning toward the fridge, he finally noticed you and smiled with a soft look in his eye to see you wearing his clothes again.

"Feeling better?" he asked, opening a cupboard to retrieve a colander.

"Much. Thank you. Is there anything I can do?" you offered, rolling up the shirt's overly long sleeves.

"I think I've got it covered. Dinner will be ready in just a few minutes," he stated, slipping on oven mitts and pulling a pot from the stove. He turned his face to the side as he poured it into the colander, avoiding the steam.

"Okay. I should probably call my mom and let her know what's happening," you said with a sigh.

"Take your time," he grinned, tossing the pasta as it drained over the sink.

Wandering back into the living room, you retrieved your phone and dialed.

She picked up on the second ring. "Hi, sweetie, are you close by? It looks like there's a storm on the way."

"Hi, mom. Actually, the storm must be coming from this direction because it already hit. Hard. I couldn't even see 10 feet in front of me, so I pulled into a small town to wait it out," you told her, fibbing slightly about the timing of the storm.

"Oh, dear! Well, that's rotten. Were you able to get someplace safe I hope?" you mother asked, concern in her voice.

"Yeah, I'm safe. But the rain still hasn't let up yet and it'll be dark soon. In fact, I might not make it until morning," you said quietly with your gaze on the man in the kitchen, unsure how he might react to that news. He probably wouldn't turn you away, but you didn't want to assume.

"That's alright, peanut. You just stay safe and wait it out. I've missed you and I want you here as soon as possible, but I also want you here in one piece," she said sternly, making you smile.

"I love you, mom. I missed you, too. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Sleep tight, sweetie. I love you."

After hanging up, you checked your email and answered a few texts before he gained your attention.

"Y/N, dinner's ready," he called for you, setting the last dish on the table before he stepped back and smiled in accomplishment.

Walking closer, you took in the meal before you. It looked like spaghetti marinara with fresh garlic bread and a green salad. Your stomach grumbled as the delicious smells hit your nose.

"Wow, this looks amazing," you said as Bucky indicated for you to sit, and you obliged.

Bucky settled into a seat across from you. "Well, it's not _'the best Italian in town'_..." he teased, referring to your first date. You met his eye and shared that memory for a moment.

"Homemade is always better," you declared with a smile. "I don't think I've had a home-cooked meal since I canceled my Blue Apron membership."

"Your what membership?" Bucky asked, confused as he served you some pasta.

"Oh, um...it's kind of like a delivery service. You order the meals and they send you the right amount of ingredients with instructions so you can cook it yourself."

"Really? Can't you just look at a recipe and buy the groceries yourself instead of paying someone?" he cocked an eyebrow, perplexed.

You laughed, "Yeah, well, when you put it that way...It just came to a point where I wasn't home enough to do the cooking part. Or I was holed up in a room writing and only took breaks to order takeout."

"Wow," he replied, handing you the bowl of sauce to serve yourself. "Sounds...intense."

You shrugged. "It can be. But before we talk more about me, let's talk about your comment regarding Wanda," you raised your eyebrows, gesturing with your empty fork before diving into the heavenly-smelling pasta.

He sat back, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Um...okay. Well, after you left Wanda was pretty cold to me for a while. Not rude, but...I don't know. Not pleasant. Then after a few weeks, she flipped a 180 and would approach me in the grocery store to chat or dropped by the bar when she knew me and the guys would be there. It was strange. She even started bringing her car in to the shop, claiming it was making a noise. I had worked on that car recently so I knew it was fine, but I checked anyway and didn't charge her because there wasn't anything wrong. I don't normally charge just for a diagnostic."

Nodding, you twirled your pasta on the fork and took a bite, then letting out a groan of pleasure. "Ohmahgah so good," you said with your mouth full, which was slightly impolite but Bucky just laughed.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. Anyway, I knew she was making up excuses when she brought her car in for a sixth check-up and still found nothing wrong. I was afraid she was going to actually damage something just so I would fix it, so I asked her what this was all really about. She finally admitted that she needed a date after getting roped into chaperoning at the high school prom. Her brother, Pietro, is the track coach there so she's still involved with events sometimes. I just told her if she had asked straight-out, I would have agreed because I'm always willing to help out a friend. She didn't have to go through all this nonsense. She frowned a little at my response, but in the end was grateful that I said yes."

"So you did it? You really chaperoned the high school prom?" you asked with humor in your voice, reaching for a slice of garlic bread.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "It wasn't that bad, just watch the punch bowl and check the bathrooms and janitor's closet every 15 minutes for wayward couples." You laughed at that as he blushed slightly. "But Wanda did ask me to dance a few times when we weren't on chaperone duty and by the end of the night, I could tell it all meant more than it was supposed to. I did emphasize the word friend when she asked, but..."

"Oh no..."

"Oh yes. It was high school all over again. I dropped her at home and said I'd see her around but she got huffy when I was clear that we wouldn't go out again. She went off about how she thought I was ready to date again and implied that she was doing me a favor by 'picking up the pieces' after you left and I just...I might have snapped a little. I told her that I would never have with her that I had with you and that she needed to stop fixating on me. It wasn't going to happen. I guess she got the message cause she got out of the truck and slammed the door, heading for home. After that, I was pretty much dead to her. Same with her brother. There are still parts of town that I can't visit without getting a verbal lashing or icy stare thanks to whatever she told people afterward. I didn't correct them. They can believe what they want," he finished with a shrug.

You had set down your fork sometime during his story and listened quietly, finally responding when he finished. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I just can't believe she still couldn't let it go after all these years. At least it's over," he said in relief, taking a bite of his own pasta.

"So," you began hesitantly, "have you dated since then?" You tried to remain casual but likely failed. Seeing most of the house, you thought you had your answer, especially after seeing only one toothbrush and no obvious signs of a female presence. Still, you had to come out and ask.

"I have," he replied. "I mean, I did. There was an elementary school substitute teacher who was here for a school year. We met at the bar and hit it off. It wasn't anything serious, though. She left at the end of the year and that was that," he said with a tone of finality. "What about you? Are you seeing anyone?"

You expected this. "I was seeing someone...until recently. He's in the industry and we met during a project I was on. He's a really good man, but...I don't know." You left things vague as Bucky had, but essentially, things were cleared up for you. It may not mean anything in the end, but at least you had your answers. Most of them.

A comfortable silence hung in the air as you both ate for a few moments before Bucky opened up conversation again.

"So tell me about L.A. You mentioned 'the industry'? As in films? What have you been up to?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

Huffing out a loud sigh, you thought back over the past two years and how to best describe the ups and downs of chasing your dreams. "Well. Once I got to L.A., I was completely overwhelmed. It's hard to describe how large the area is that most people would consider 'Los Angeles'. I got lost SO many times and looked at cheap apartments in scary areas, even sleeping in my car one night, but I didn't even sleep because I was terrified. I finally found a place, though, after a week of searching. A four-bedroom apartment with 5 other people in their 20s. Most are actors or dancers with day jobs."

Bucky looked relieved after hearing your harrowing tale that you had found a safe space. He took another bite and let you continue.

"I met with that possible agent I mentioned before, Tony Stark? He's a no-nonsense guy but he does have a heart, so he still gave me a chance. The script I had sent him was some superhero story based on a lesser-known comic book character who I loved growing up. Stark passed on that one but liked my style and story pacing so he gave me another chance to prove myself, which is rare. I basically pitched him a few stories I had in the works. He picked one and told me to run with it and I did. I finished it after a grueling few weeks of madness and he shopped it around. Eventually, someone optioned it and everything happened so fast after that, it seems."

"That's amazing," he declared, grinning at you as he reached for his water glass. "What's the story?"

You smiled wistfully, thinking back on those months you spent completely wrapped up in this project. "It's an action-packed thriller where an Interpol agent is hunting a rogue assassin around the world, trying to anticipate his next target and get ahead to capture him. But then there's a twist in the middle where the agent starts to question the assassin's motives along with his own. It was...it was pretty intense to write and I got to be on set at times for re-writes, so the entire project was amazing. Huge learning experience," you said with a slow shake of your head.

"Wow," Bucky breathed out in awe. "That sounds awesome. So, it's an actual movie? It's in theaters and everything?"

"Yep. An actual movie," you nodded, still in disbelief yourself. "Although, it's not in theaters anymore. I think it's out on DVD and such."

"I'd love to see it."

"You should. I think you'd enjoy it. Not that I'm at all biased, by the way," you laughed.

He chuckled along with you. "I wonder if the video store has it...maybe I could go out and check if the rain has died down."

"Wait, are you serious?" you gaped at him. "You want to watch it tonight? And secondly, you still have a video store? It's probably on Netflix anyway."

He rolled his eyes with a smile. "Yes, we have a video store. We live a little behind the times and that's not a bad thing. Also, I don't have that Flexit thing."

"It's Netflix, Buck, and that's okay, we could use my log-in," you shrugged.

Bucky was silent then, pursing his lips before he smiled guiltily. Then it occurred to you: taking another look around house, you didn't see one piece of the latest technology. Bucky's tv was boxy and square with a DVD/VCR combo next to it. There was no computer in sight and you'd never even seen him with a cell phone.

You turned back toward him, eyes wide in shock. "You don't even have internet, do you?"

He just took a bite of pasta and chewed with a close-lipped smile until he swallowed. "I've just never seen a need for it."

Sitting back in your chair, you let that sink in. How anyone could live without internet in this day and age was beyond you.

"Oh, wait!" he exclaimed and stood up, having finished his plate of food. "Darcy! She's my next door neighbor and she owns practically every movie ever made. Well, 'only the good ones', she claims. I'll run over there."

Bucky had thrown on a jacket and was out the door before you could respond, so you enjoyed your last few bites of past and carried your plate to the kitchen sink. You started to clear the table, but were unsure where to put anything so you left the bowls of food in the kitchen and found a towel to wipe down the table. By then, Bucky had returned and hung up his soaking wet jacket. He waved the DVD case triumphantly for you to see.

"Got it!" he smiled, then frowned upon seeing what you were doing. "Y/N, you do not have to clean up, I'll take care of that. Why don't you pop in the movie and I'll finish in the kitchen?" he bargained, handing the DVD to you.

"I don't mind cleaning up, but if you say so," you shrugged, walking to the living room with the movie in hand. Looking down, you glanced at the cover to see a familiar face, making you smile. You inserted the DVD and discovered what you hoped was a universal remote on the tv before settling on the couch.

Bucky walked in a few minutes later with a bowl of fresh popcorn in his hands. "Ready to go?" he asked, settling on the couch a few inches from you.

"Yeah," you replied, then hesitating nervously. "Bucky...is this okay? I mean, it's getting late and there's got to be another hotel in town, I should go..."

He interrupted you by placing a warm hand on yours. "Y/N. Just stay. Please? It's ridiculous for you to go out again in the storm when you're more than welcome here. I'll sleep on the couch, I've done it dozens of times on accident and I won't hear another word about it."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand with a stern expression, so you relented. "Okay. I'll stay. Thank you, Bucky."

His face lit up when you agreed, causing that sputtering spark inside you spread warmth from the inside out. Tearing your gaze from his, you picked up the remote and pressed play.

______________________

_And the plot thickens! :D That awkward wet t-shirt moment had me blushing as I wrote it! heh. And what about that hospitable Bucky and his cute little house? I'd stay too. ;) Wanda makes another unfortunate appearance. Oy. The movie plot, though? Anyone catch the little easter eggs? Any feedback is appreciated! <3_


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Nat, Clint, OC Talia. DumDum Dugan and Peter Parker mentioned. 
> 
> Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind. 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Fluff!!!! 
> 
> Word Count: 3.7k

Hearing the actors speak your words and seeing them act out a story that once only lived in your head was still a new and bizarre sensation for you. Beginning with you sitting in a room by yourself, staring at a blinking cursor for hours on end all the way through casting, production and editing until finally it all came to life, it was a miracle. It was also strange and wonderful to see someone witness your work for the first time. You couldn't stop yourself from observing out of the corner of your eye as Bucky watched the action on the ancient television screen before you.

Bucky was content to sit back and munch on popcorn at first but as the action got intense, his hands stilled with gaze unwavering. You sat beside him, feet resting on the coffee table next to where the popcorn bowl now rested. He made small comments and asked questions throughout, which thrilled you. You didn't answer though, not wanting to taint his experience.

The Agent first caught the case as several murders were tied with a common weapon, from there he sought motive and gathered evidence. Once he found a connection in victims, he saw the pattern and it was a race against time to catch the killer.

You hid your face behind your fingers as the big twist came up, fearing that you'd give it away. The Agent finally had a solid lead finding the assassin but once a hidden file was decrypted, new evidence came to light. Grainy video footage played on the screen as the man in question was brought into the room and strapped to a chair, his memory wiped until he was a shell of a man. Orders were given and he carried them out emotionlessly, which begged the question: was the assassin responsible for his actions? Should the Agent be hunting the man who pulled the trigger or the organization responsible?

As the plot twist played out, Bucky nearly held his breath with a hand gripping your knee. You don't even think he meant to do it, but he was so caught up, you didn't want to interrupt and question the action. Besides, you didn't mind in the slightest. The movie played on with the Agent going rogue and falling deeper down the rabbit hole in search of the assassin, although less with intent to capture and more in need of answers. The climactic scene arrived where Agent met Assassin face to face for the first time.

Tensions ran high as the assassin found himself cornered, but Agent made no move to capture. By then he hardly resembled his former self, his once short-cropped dirty blond hair now long and shaggy with a fully-grown beard over his usually clean shaven face. He had disobeyed orders when he followed the assassin off the map and now stood before his target.

_"I don't do those things anymore. I haven't since I escaped. I didn't have a choice..." the assassin spoke, desperation gripping his words._

_"I know."_

_"Then why are you here? Why can't you leave me be?" he pleaded._

_"I need answers. Who are they? What do they want and how did you escape?"_

_"If you know what they've done to me, then you know I can't answer much, but I'll give you all I have....if you'll let me go. You'll never hear from me again."_

Against his better judgement and training, the Agent agreed, but somehow his gut told him it was the right call. As the end credits began to roll, Bucky exhaled heavily and sunk back into the couch, releasing his grip on your knee.

"Holy hell," he exclaimed, running fingers through his hair. "I feel like my muscles have been tense for the past hour and a half. I can't believe you wrote that. I mean, I totally believe it, but...wow," he spoke in awe, rolling his neck and shoulders to relieve tension.

"Why, thank you," you answered with a smile.

"So...the Agent just lets him walk away, even helping the assassin fake his death?"

"Yup."

"Wow. But...there's still so many unanswered questions. What happened with the evil organization? Can the Agent get back into Interpol's good graces? Will the assassin stay true to his word and disappear? I just..."

"I know," you replied. "That was the point. It wrapped up well enough to be a stand-alone, but there have been talks about a sequel. I've been approached to write it, but I haven't had a chance to dive in yet to see if there's enough to the story. I've been pretty caught up in my current project...." you trailed off, covering your mouth as a yawn escaped you.

"Oh yeah? And what's this new project?" Bucky asked, intrigued as he shifted on the couch to face you.

You chuckled. "Well, that one is going to have to wait a while. It's a little early for announcements, but things are slowly rolling ahead."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, unsatisfied with your non-answer but willing to let it go. "Okay. So, who's the guy who played the agent? I think I've seen him before..." he asked, reaching to glance at the DVD case displaying the title _"End of the Line"_ in bold letters.

"Steve Rogers," you answered on instinct.

"Yeah. He was in those superhero movies, right?" Bucky asked, his eyes still on the case with Steve's bearded, rugged face on the cover.

"Um...yes, he was," you replied vaguely.

"You said you were on set sometimes, did you ever meet him? Or the other actors?"

"I did. Several of them. Really great people," you said, still holding yourself back from telling the whole story for some reason. "Steve was...he's very much a method actor. He stayed in character almost the whole time on set, so the few times I saw him in person, it was intense." You stopped yourself then, thinking back on how you felt like you didn't actually meet Steve until the wrap party where you met the kind, light-hearted, funny man you now knew intimately. Or you used to.

"That's so cool. I hope there is a sequel and that you're the one to write it. You're very talented, Y/N," he said genuinely, holding your gaze.

"Thank you, Bucky. That means a lot," you replied with a soft grin, which was then interrupted by another yawn of betrayal. You didn't want this moment to end.

Bucky smiled softly at you. "Alright, you need your rest so I won't keep you any longer. I put fresh sheets on the bed yesterday, so they should be fairly clean. Go ahead and use the bathroom if you need to. I'll shower after," he offered, then standing and you followed his action.

You headed down the hall, but then stopped and turned back toward him, your expression serious. "Bucky...I'm sorry for the way I acted back then. I never should have asked you to leave your home at the drop of a hat as if it meant nothing. I was selfish and naive. I shouldn't have belittled this small town life or those who choose to live it. You're such a good man and if I hurt you, I..."

"Hey, hey," Bucky interrupted and closed the distance between you with a soft caress of his hand on your arm. "It's all in the past. I'm okay. We are okay. I promise," he assured you with a smile.

"Okay," you replied before reluctantly slipping out of his grasp.

_________________

Tired as your body was, sleep eluded you. Your mind was a tangle of thoughts and emotions, and trying to sort them out seemed impossible. You had heard the running water of the shower half an hour ago and now the house was silent.

Your mind kept wandering to the next room where Bucky lay. Coming this far for answers and closure, you had somewhat succeeded, but you were still in need of something more. You found yourself on your feet, heading for the door and prying it open quietly. There was a magnetic pull drawing you toward the living room, tangible yet invisible.

Stepping lightly, you walked around the end of the couch to see Bucky sprawled across its cushions. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of grey sweats with an arm tucked under his head. The storm seemed to have passed, moonlight shining on the hardwood floors as you approached. Bucky's face was shadowed, his expression unreadable, but somehow you knew his night was sleepless as well.

That tug under your rib cage reeled you toward him. Stepping between the couch and coffee table, you took a seat on the table's hard surface, even with Bucky's smooth chest of sculpted muscle. You clasped both hands between your bent knees and within seconds you felt calloused fingers brushing over yours gently. Bucky raised up on one elbow and the moonbeams found his handsome face, stormy-grey eyes reflecting everything you felt inside.

He brushed a hand behind your neck and pulled you closer, capturing you in featherlight kiss at first, but in seconds it was smoldering and desperate. You felt him shift up to sitting as he pulled you toward him, your knees landing on either side of him. Bucky's large hands pressed against your back until you were chest to chest, lips and tongues demanding more.

You yelped against his mouth as he lifted you, legs wrapping around his waist as he stood. He found his way to the bedroom in the dark with no trouble, then placing you lightly on the mattress. He knelt between your legs but then paused, your chests heaving as he took a long look at your adoring face with a lustful but soft expression.

"God, I missed you," he breathed out, to which you smiled before pulling him back down to meet your waiting lips.

Hands slipped under the henley of his you wore before it was pulled over your head, then off came both pairs of sweatpants. He was surprised to see you wore nothing underneath. Logically, your underclothes still were wet from the rain, but you had also wanted the fabric of his clothes as close against your skin as possible. Now it was only skin contact you required. A square foil packet was discovered in his bedside table and as if no time had passed you were joined as one, feeling all the perfect pieces fall into place.

Familiar rough hands raised goosebumps across your skin. While lips sucked and nibbled, you felt those flames of desire fill you more and more until they erupted from you in a glorious burst of pleasure with Bucky following shortly after.

Some time later you both were enjoying the familiar comfort of being in each other arms as your fingers traced patterns on the smooth, tanned skin of his chest next to where your head lay. Bucky let out a contented sigh and rubbed a hand across your bare back. Exhausted as you both were, neither of you were willing to lose this time together to the tempting snares of sleep. It was you who broke the comfortable silence.

"I've missed you, too," you admitted quietly. "I may have...glossed over a few things about my arrival in L.A. Yes, I was overwhelmed and lost and doubted whether I could ever fit in there and make a life for myself...but I was also heartbroken," you whispered the last few words, finally turning your face to meet his eye. "I told myself for the longest time that it couldn't happen in just one weekend, that I had blown the whole thing out of proportion and I was only fooling myself. But there were times when I wondered why I said goodbye. One of the things that kept me going was your voice in my head saying I was meant for more. Your faith in me meant the world and I just...I have to thank you. You're part of the reason why I succeeded, Bucky," you said, voice full of emotion.

Bucky offered a smile, bending toward you to capture your lips in a lingering kiss, then parting. "That was all you, doll. I can't take credit for any of that but I'm glad I could tell you what you already knew: that you could do whatever you set your mind to. You were never far from my mind, either. I thought the same: one weekend? Can three days change your life? It seemed like it. I kept your receipt with your phone number taped over the desk in the office for a long time, so sure I would have the courage to call. I don't know what I would have said, but...you're here. I can hardly believe it," he spoke in a husky voice.

A tear escaped as you smiled up at him, so grateful that life and chance brought you back to him. "As difficult being apart has been the past few years, I know there's still no easy answer," you said honestly, "but I don't want to say goodbye again. Whatever happens....however it happens, I need you in my life, Bucky. This seems right, can't you feel it?"

He nodded immediately in agreement. "I'm in. Whatever happens, I am all in. I'm not letting you go again, even if long-distance is how it has to be. We'll give it a try," he declared, holding your gaze.

"Yes," you answered, feeling so much hope and promise in that one word.

"Until then..." Bucky began, shifting you onto your back as he now hovered above you, "I think we need to make up for lost time."

You giggled with a nod, getting lost in his kisses and caresses that somehow felt like coming home.

________________

You stayed up for hours together, talking, laughing, making love...Bucky even pulled out his guitar and played a naked, acoustic version of "Let it Be" by the Beatles, one of your favorites. Your previous curiosity about his owning a cell phone returned, so you asked. He produced an outdated flip phone and you let out a chuckle, but shouldn't have expected anything different at this point.

You programmed your number in his phone and vice versa, even taking a moment to show him how to text. You failed to hold back your laughter as you watched him peck out a three-word reply that took him five minutes to send. He retaliated by tickling your sides, which soon led to more lovemaking. Wrapped up in his arms afterwards, sleep eventually took you, hard as you tried to fight it.

A kiss to your brow and a light touch against your cheek woke you some time later. "Y/N....I'm sorry to wake you, but I didn't want you to worry. I'm going to the shop for an hour or two then I'll be back and I'll bring your suitcase," Bucky whispered in the morning light.

Groggy, you went to sit up, "I'll come with you..."

"No, no, you rest. I just need to check things over with DumDum and clear my morning because I'm taking you to breakfast, doll. Try and stop me," he smiled, nuzzling against your neck as you tried to hold on to him with heavy limbs. He chuckled at your attempt. "I'll be back soon."

You gently slipped back under the covers with the promise of breakfast and Bucky sweetening your dreams.

_______________

The bell jangled lightly over the door and Bucky held it open as you entered the diner. So many memories came rushing back as your eyes wandered to the booth where you had spent hours planning and drinking too much coffee that weekend.

"Y/N?" a surprised voice rang out from behind the counter.

You turned to see the familiar face with bright red lips now stretched in a huge grin. "Hi, Nattie," you greeted as she walked around the end of the counter and pulled you into a hug.

"I thought my eyes were playin' tricks on me, I can't believe it. Look at you, all dressed up and gorgeous. What brings you back to town?" she asked, then her eyes settled on Bucky behind you and her eyebrow raised in intrigue and understanding.

"It's good to see you, too, Nat," you smiled. "And unfortunately, I'm headed to my home town for a funeral. Got caught in the rain last night, though, so I stayed..." you trailed off, glancing at Bucky.

"Uh huh...." she replied, eyes flickering between the two of you. "And look what the cat dragged in, Mr. Bucky Barnes gracing us with his presence. He usually just sends poor Pete to pick up lunch these days," she teased.

"Morning, Nat," he rolled his eyes with affection as she pecked a kiss on his whiskered cheek. "Is Clint here?" he asked, surveying the crowd of customers throughout the diner.

"Of course he is, right at the end of the counter with the little one," she pointed and your gaze followed, now seeing the sandy-haired man with a young child in his arms, maybe 9 months old. Nattie walked down that way with you and Bucky following. She took the child from Clint and brought her toward you for introductions. "This is my little angel, Talia. Best thing that ever happened to me," she cooed, pressing a kiss to her daughter's strawberry-blonde head.

"Hey!" you heard a shout of protest from behind the redhead.

She rolled her eyes in affection and pulled her husband toward her as he looped an arm around her waist, rings now visible on their fingers. "And I guess I kinda like him, too," she teased.

"That's more like it," Clint grinned. "Buck, who's this lovely lady and how did you catch her? She's clearly out of your league," he jabbed at the dark-haired mechanic.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that," Bucky replied with a smile. "You remember Y/N."

"Of course, I was just teasing. Good to see you again, Y/N," he said, leaning in for a one-armed hugged.

"We're gonna have some breakfast before Y/N has to hit the road, any open booths?" Bucky inquired.

"Of course, hun, take that one right over there. I'll be over in a minute," the redhead answered with a point of her finger.

"Thanks, Nattie. And congratulations," you told her, gripping her hand tightly for a moment before walking away.

You slipped into a booth across from Bucky and opened the menu, noticing not much had changed except that they actually attempted to have a gluten-free option, which was noble of them. It was basically a requirement in L.A. Your eyes settled on Bucky then, drinking in every inch of him as if to burn his image in your mind.

You cleared your throat. "I may have been half asleep this morning, so correct me if I'm wrong, but...did you refer to someone at the auto shop as 'DumDum'?" you asked, amused.

Bucky barked out a laugh as his face lit up, causing those flutters in your stomach. "Yeah, I did. Tim Dugan, also known as DumDum, was one of my army buddies. We've kept in touch since I got out and he contacted me about a year ago, asking if I knew of any jobs. He just had to get out of where he was living and needed a change, so I offered to bring him on. And he likes the nickname, I promise, although the origin of it escapes me..." he looked off into the distance as if the answers could be found there.

"I see. Does he like it there? At the shop, I mean?" you asked him, still perusing the menu between glances his way.

"Seems to. He's picked up the skills quickly and even has taken on some of the ordering of parts and paperwork, so that has lightened my load quite a bit. It's strange not to have the whole place to myself, but...nice to have a break every once in a while," he shrugged.

"And Peter? When did he come in?"

"About six months ago. He's trying to raise some money for college and the pizza place wasn't busy enough. Also, his Aunt May told me he could use a 'good male influence' after his uncle passed away. I suppose us knuckleheads could provide that maybe?" he joked with a smirk.

You spoke with a laugh, "Hm...I guess it's possible," you said with a wink. "Speaking of nicknames, I'm a little embarrassed that I haven't asked how you got the nickname 'Bucky'. It's not exactly derived from 'James', is it," you stated.

"No, it's not," he chuckled. "But also not terribly complicated. My middle name is Buchanan, so that's where 'Bucky' comes from."

"James Buchanan Barnes. Good, strong name," you told him, threading your fingers with his on the table top.

He shrugged with a grin, "I kinda like it."

Nattie returned and you ordered, asking for a slice of Boysenberry pie for the road before you'd even had breakfast. You and Bucky talked and ate, trying not to hear the ticking clock of your pending departure. You waved goodbye to Nattie, Clint and little Talia before Bucky drove you back to your rental car parked at the auto shop.

Bags already in your car and a slice of pie on your passenger's seat, it all felt like deja vu but this time, it wasn't goodbye. Bucky pressed a kiss to your lips and pulled you into a tight hug, both of you feeling that it may have to last for a while. You released him in exchange for another kiss as tears threatened.

Finally letting go and slipping behind the wheel, you turned the key and the engine purred to life. You rolled down the window and Bucky's hand found yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"I'll call you before I leave town," you promised, wishing there was more you could guarantee him.

"Okay," he replied, ducking his head into the car for one last lingering kiss.

You pulled out of the parking lot and glanced in the rearview mirror to see Bucky still standing there as he raised a hand in goodbye. But it didn't feel like a farewell this time. Somehow, it felt like only the beginning.

_More to come..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeee!! I hope you liked this part! What did you think of the movie she wrote? And how about that late-night reunion? ;) There were promises made and hopes shared, but how do you think long-distance will work out? Plus Clint and Nattie with little Talia! So cute. Another goodbye, but not forever. I hope to have the next part up soon! Any thoughts are appreciated! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Tony Stark, Brock Rumlow. Steve, DumDum Dugan and Peter Parker mentioned. 
> 
> Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind. 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Fluff, mild angst. Mentions of death.
> 
> Word Count: 3.9k

"I'm still not sold on the ending," your agent stated as he dropped your manuscript on his desk with a thump. He sat back in his chair while drumming fingers on the desktop next to his computer. "Casting is almost finished, they start filming in two weeks, and I don't have a finished script."

"You DO have a finished script, Tony. Just not the conclusion you want. I tried other endings and none of them seemed genuine. This ending is the most organic and it's where the characters took me. You know how it is, sometimes they have a mind of their own," you replied with a shrug.

He narrowed his eyes, stroking his well-manicured goatee. "You know you sound like a crazy person when you talk like that, right?"

You laughed. "Not to my fellow writers."

"Didn't you get my notes on the last edits?"

You looked away from the screen, lost in thought. "Hmm...the last edit email I got was from Pepper and there was nothing in there about altering the ending," you said with a smirk.

"That sneaky little..." he trailed off with a shake of his head.

Another chuckle escaped you. "She liked the ending, didn't she? That's why she didn't add your note," you smiled triumphantly.

Tony shifted in his chair, hesitating. "That remains irrelevant. I am your agent and I say..."

"Please trust me on this, Tony," you said quickly, interrupting him. "Using the sort of ending you want would mean a total rewrite and it would suck because I would hate it. This script is important to me and I don't want to ruin it just because you want a predictable ending all tied up in a bow," you said with conviction, standing your ground.

He leveled you with a supposedly intimidating gaze before slipping off his tinted glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine. You win. I'll send it through to the director and producers, BUT...if they have a problem with it, we're revisiting the subject," he threatened through your iPad's screen.

You beamed with a grateful smile. "You're the best, you know that?"

"Yeah, whatever, just go be with your family. We'll talk in a few days," he replied, waving off your praise.

"Thanks, Tony," you said, about to end the Skype call when Tony noticed something, leaning closer to the screen.

"Does Rogers know you had a poster of him in your room?" he teased, pointing to something behind you.

You paled slightly. "Goodbye, Tony," you said forcefully before ending the call and setting your iPad aside.

Dropping your head in your hands, you slowly turned around and dared to look up only to see Steve Rogers in a superhero stance staring back at you. You'd forgotten all about it. Your childhood room was basically the same as it had been when you left two years ago. Now you were faced with Steve, along with several other movie star crushes plastered upon your walls, some of whom you had now met in person. Your first instinct was to be embarrassed, but honestly, they'd probably find it funny.

Glancing around the room, you took in all the small mementos and photos with memories tied to each one. It was a strange feeling to be back, but not a bad one. You never imagined you'd be having a conversation with your editor of two years in the room where back then your current reality was merely a pipe dream. It goes to show how far you had come.

Shaking your head, you climbed off the twin bed and got to your feet, straightening your skirt. You had settled on a black pencil skirt and a cream-colored blouse. Family was beginning to arrive, you gathered, hearing the murmurs of conversation below you. You stepped down the hall and descended the stairs to see faces turning your way. There were exclamations of " _welcome home_ " and " _you look great_ " and " _I saw that movie of yours, it was way too violent_ ". You just smiled kindly and offered hugs. Family is family, no matter what.

Your mom came out of the kitchen and embraced you as well, even though she had seen you less than 20 minutes ago. Not that you minded. You were soaking up all the hugs and enjoying the limited time you had here. Heaven knows L.A. isn't big on genuine hugs, more like handshakes or if you knew the person well, air kisses on each cheek.

Moving through the entryway, you finally made your way into the living room to see bouquets of flowers surrounding a large photo of your recently departed Uncle Nick. He may not have been a blood relative, but you still considered him family. He always had a bit of a scowl on his face, but deep down you knew he was a softy.

The funny thing was, no one really knew what he did for a living. He would disappear for months on end and then return as if nothing had happened, sometimes a little worse for the wear. He always came home with incredible stories to tell, though. Always telling harrowing tales of great adventures and daring escapes, as a child you hung on his every word. Now as an adult, you realized he may have been exaggerated slightly, but honestly, his stories were partly why you became obsessed with action films and story telling.

The biggest story of his life, though, was still a mystery. According to your mom, Uncle Nick's body couldn't even be release because of "security reasons", so there was no burial this weekend. Instead, tonight was an informal, intimate gathering and tomorrow was the official memorial at the church.

Difficult as it was to unplug and turn off that part of your brain that wanted to fixate on everything you needed to be doing back in L.A., you did your best to be in the moment and stay focused on what was important. In fact, the only reason you had to check in with Tony was because you had been unintentionally ignoring his messages the past few days. You could blame that on the lack of both cell service and wifi, and perhaps also a handsome mechanic who never failed to put a smile on your face whenever he popped into your mind. Which was fairly often, to be honest.

Someone tapped you on the shoulder then, bringing you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see Maria's kind face. She asked about L.A. and wondered if you had a chance to use the hair kit she had gifted you before you left town. You were actually able to say yes, smiling at the memory of running your fingers through Bucky's chestnut locks in that motel bathroom. You didn't mention that part to her, though. She brought you up to speed on the hair salon and her growing kids. One last embrace and she let you go as the next person caught your attention.

The evening was exhausting and emotionally draining, a few tears falling when stories of Nick were shared. As you ascended the stairs and got ready for bed at the end of the night, your thoughts swirled around the word "home". It's not always just the place you live, and although family can also help make that distinction, another phrase continued to resurface in your mind: Home is where the heart is. Somehow, without even meaning to, there's a chance you had left your heart in a small town four hours east of where you stood. What that meant for your future, you really couldn't say just yet.

_________________

The memorial service was lovely. Nick Fury was a private man, but each person whose life he touched had a story about him. There were tears as well as laughter, keeping his spirit alive with each memory shared. There was a luncheon afterward and nearly everyone in town showed up. You saw one familiar face across the room and headed his way, then slugging the man's arm as you came to his side.

"Ow! What was that for?" Brock exclaimed, clutching his 'injury'. "You know this is a memorial service, right? Isn't violence frowned upon?"

"So is selling cars with the knowledge that it has a cracked radiator, dillweed," you retaliated with a hard look. You had gone to high school with Brock, so your interactions tended to involve childish insults. He always was a bit of a shady character.

He at least had the decency to look a little guilty. "Y/N, I..."

"Forget it," you cut him off, softening your tone slightly. "You're lucky it worked in my favor. BUT. If you do that to anyone else, I'll hunt you down, Rumlow. You hear me?" you threatened, holding his gaze.

His mouth gaped open to speak, but he then just nodded.

"Okay, then," you answered, then walking away as quickly as you came.

After the memorial service on Saturday you stayed one last night with your mom, but then had to fly out Sunday to start your work week. So badly you wished you could have made the drive again and run back into Bucky's arms, but you knew it would be even harder to say goodbye with such short a time together.

You called him from the airport, making him promise to keep his phone on him from now on and to charge it each night. Apparently, he had a bad habit of letting it die and forgetting about it for days on end in the past. There was so much you wanted to say, but you knew that now you could say it all over time. You were in it for the long haul.

Soaring through the sky at 35,000 feet, you looked down and tried to imagine that you could see the tiny dot of a town just off the highway with part of you wishing you were there. As the clouds parted, you thought back on the small towns you had spent the past few days in and realized that you now had a soft spot for them despite trying so hard to leave them not too long ago. After all, your memories lined the walls of a house filled with family in one of them and now your heart resided in another.

_________________

_Four Months Later_

"I know that a cliffhanger is just a matter of speech but sometimes it can be literal, I mean that's how that term came to be, right?" you asked out loud, which was slightly odd, considering you were alone.

You were deep into one of your writing sessions, but got stuck on a plot point so you decided to talk it out. Sometimes just voicing your thoughts to an empty room would shake another idea loose enough to move forward.

"Okay, so an actual cliff...but how does he get there....is it near water? Where did I put the location notes?" you continued to mutter, scanning your plot board for the information you sought. Just then, your phone chirped indicating a text message. Usually, you would silence your phone while writing or even leave it in a different room, but when you were waiting to hear from Bucky, you muted everyone except him.

Picking up, you saw the message and grinned.

_Hey doll. Writing ok?_

Bucky's texting abilities had improved quite a bit, considering sometimes that was the only way you got to talk. Phone calls were harder to pin down, especially when you were on a deadline.

_Pretty good. How's the shop?_

_Slow today. Package 4 me?_

You squealed then, hurrying to peck out a reply.

_Yes! It came!! Don't open yet, please! A few more hours of work and I'll call._

_10?_

_Perfect._

You glanced at the clock to see it was about 4:30pm your time and he was 2 hours ahead, so that gave you some time to write and eventually eat something before you could call him. Now with something to look forward, your conviction was renewed as you stared at your notes and dove back in to writing with a smile on your face.

_____________

"Hey, gorgeous. It's really good to hear your voice. It's been what, a week?" Bucky asked, his husky voice coming through the phone. You might have woken him, but you knew he didn't mind. Neither of you wanted to miss out on a single moment of your time together, limited as it was.

"Hi, handsome. I know, it's been too long. I'm sorry, this script, though! Ugh!!" you groaned dramatically, falling backwards onto your comfy couch away from your writing room. You tried to separate your work and home life, even though they often occurred under the same roof.

He chuckled under his breath. "It's okay, babe. I understand. So what's this about a package?" he asked, intrigued.

Straightening up in your seat, you squealed again in excitement. You'd had this planned for weeks and now he could finally see it for himself. "Okay, so go ahead and open it, but I don't want you to think it's a needlessly expensive thing cause it's not. I mean, it's just as much a gift to me as it is to you," you vaguely explained as you heard the sounds of packing tape being severed with most likely the pocket knife Bucky kept handy at all times.

"Okay?" he answered, confused, until you heard the rustling of paper stop. "You bought me a...Apple?"

"Yes, it's an iPad from Apple, just like mine. And before you say that it's too much and that I shouldn't have, first of all, I didn't. It was in a grab bag at a swanky party a while back. And yes, I should have, and you will agree once you see what it can do. Also you got a really good deal on wifi for the next few months, thanks to Clint's cousin. He set it up."

He huffed out a sigh, resigned. "Well, I guess I can't argue then, can I? So what do I do with it?"

"Okay. So, the round button in the middle should be at the bottom. The on button will be at the top, so click that and the screen should light up."

He did as you instructed and then followed your directions to swipe to the right, unlocking the device. You set it up so he didn't have to enter a security code. Best to keep it simple. He then pressed a finger on the small icon of an "S" in a blue circle as you requested, followed by selecting the words 'sign in'. Smiling, you pressed the call button on your own iPad and heard the echo of the tell-tale ringing through your phone.

"What the...is that...?" you heard Bucky's confused voice until his handsome face came into focus.

"Hi, there, Sexy," you cooed, grinning at your boyfriend through the camera before hanging up your phone, which was no longer necessary.

"Y/N? Oh wow...you're right, this is the best gift ever," he beamed at you with those favorite eye wrinkles of his making an appearance. "Thank you so much, babe."

"You're so welcome, hot stuff. I thought you'd like a little more face time," you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows.

He laughed at that, the iPad shaking in his grasp before his expression became serious. "God, I miss you, doll."

He shifted on the couch up to sitting and raised the camera to eye level. Bucky looked as attractive as ever, even with the faint couch pattern on his right cheek. He must have fallen asleep watching another movie that you had recommended. Movies gave you more to talk about besides how much you missed each other, plus Bucky loved that you were sharing one of your passions with him. Luckily Darcy was a great resource for movies.

"I miss you, too," you uttered with a sad smile that then brightened. "However...part of why I wanted to video chat was because I want to ask you something face to face. Ready?"

"Ask away."

"Well, you remember that project I was working on a few months ago?" He nodded in response and you continued. "Oddly enough, the shoot went smoothly and post-production is coming to an end ahead of schedule. It's an Indie film, lower budget, but with a few higher profile stars and some of that Stark publicity magic, it's actually getting some attention."

"That's great, Y/N!" he responded, genuinely excited for you. "You haven't told me much about it, though. Keeping things under wraps still?"

"Actually..." you began, "that's because I want you to experience it firsthand. With me. The premiere is in six weeks and it would mean the world to me if you came, Buck."

"Um...wow," he uttered, eyes wide in shock. "You want me to visit you in L.A.? Is this a whole red carpet thing, cause I..."

"No, no," you interrupted. "I mean, yes, there will be a red carpet, but I'm not at all obligated to show up that way. We could arrive quietly and leave right after, if you want. I know it sounds like a big ordeal, but this movie is important to me and all I want is to have you next to me. That's all."

He paused to consider. "I don't know. The shop..."

"...is doing great now, you said it yourself. DumDum can handle things for a few days and Peter is a great help, right? This gives you enough time to square things away and let them know about anything that might come up if you're gone. I can fly you in, but if you're not comfortable with that, you could make the drive. Please, Bucky?" You knew you were in the territory of almost begging, but this was a big step to take for Bucky. It was important that he knew you had thought of everything and while you would take no for an answer, you definitely didn't want to.

You saw him stare off into the distance, scrubbing a hand over his whiskered face before responding.

"Okay."

"What?" you cried out, rising to your feet. "Really? You'll come?"

"Of course, doll. You've made the trip out here a few times now and I should meet you half way, too. I'll admit, I'm nervous about it, but I want to support you. Yes, I'll be there. And I'll make the drive. I could use a little wind in my hair, I suppose," he said, unleashing that devilishly handsome grin.

A high-pitched squeal escaped from you again, nearly losing your grip on your iPad as you danced about the living room. Bucky's laughter rang out through your device. And he was right, you had made two trips out to see him since you reconnected. Now you were ecstatic he would be heading your way soon.

"Okay, okay," you settled back on the couch, having finally contained yourself. "So I have a plan..."

_______________

_5 Weeks Later_

The gift of being able to Skype face to face became part of your weekly routine as often as possible. You started a tradition of cooking and eating dinner together as you Skyped, even coordinating having the same meal at times. You were trying to cook more healthy meals at home and rely less on takeout.

It just felt good to talk, continuing to get to know each other and feel that comfort of having someone to come home to, even if it was only through a screen. After a while, you needed a bit more than talk. You couldn't help it, though. Things eventually escalated to more risqué behavior as you shared intimate moments alone, but together, when all you wanted was to be in his arms.

Thankfully, the wait was almost over. Through the past month, you had been planning Bucky's trip out to come and see you for the premiere. You were so excited to show him your home and the most beautiful parts of the city.

Back when you were just starting out, sharing a small apartment with roommates was the ideal scenario. You were barely squeaking by at times to pay rent and expenses as you worked odd jobs. Even after you had sold your first script, it took months before you actually saw any money. Once you had a more steady income and royalties, you were still frugal and saved most of what you made. On rare occasions, you would splurge on a stylist and hair and makeup team just for the night when a big event came up that you were asked to attend.

Your one big purchase was a down payment on a gorgeous condo in Malibu with a breathtaking view of the ocean on one side and the Los Angeles valley on the other. You needed the peace and quiet for writing and you had earned it. Steve had actually helped you move in a few months before you headed home unexpectedly and that was when everything changed. You had heard through mutual friends that he was doing really well, working steadily and even dating someone. Steve deserved that happiness and you wished him nothing but the best. He had been so good to you and even had encouraged you to try again with Bucky. You would be forever grateful to Steve for that.

Puttering around the kitchen as you made dinner, you couldn't stop yourself from glancing at the clock every few minutes. You had heard from Bucky while on the road and he should be arriving within the hour. Your heart sped up a little, imagining Bucky driving through the streets of the city you now called home as the distance between you all but disappeared. He had made the drive in good time, stopping where you had recommended as you remembered the first time you headed this way.

Turning on some music, you focused on the recipe before you and tried to distract yourself from the ticking clock. A short while later, you heard the rumble of a car's engine getting louder, but not one you recognized. Turning off the stove, you walked to the window overlooking the street to see a sleek black car parked in your driveway. When you saw who stepped out of the driver's seat, you lost all composure. Tearing down the steps to the first floor and then throwing open your front door, you rushed across the lawn in your bare feet before launching yourself into his arms.

Bucky caught you easily as you wrapped arms around his neck and legs around his waist, your lips finding his in a furiously passionate kiss, conveying all the pent-up emotions between you. You both muttered sweet nothings to each other without breaking contact, finally releasing your legs to stand when you realized you were giving your neighbors quite the show and they might get more of one if you didn't take a step back.

"Hi. You made it," you said with a laugh, beaming.

"I did," he said with a chuckle. "Made good time, too. Just couldn't wait any longer to get to you," he admitted, capturing your lips in another kiss.

Breaking apart, you finally took in the vehicle that had brought him here with a wide smile. "Is that what I think it is?"

He smirked then, turning towards the car but keeping an arm around your waist. "Yup. The Impala."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeee!!! So much happening! What did you think of Tony the agent? And were you surprised by whose funeral it was? Long-distance relationships are rough. Do you think they can make it work? Bucky and technology always makes me smile, gets useful though, right? Looks like they got a bit create with that iPad, huh. ;) Would't you? But he's heading to L.A.! And in quite the hot car, huh? I love adding those easter eggs! I'd love to hear your thoughts and thank you for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Tony Stark, Steve (mentioned)
> 
> Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind. 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Fluff, small cliffhanger? oops.
> 
> Word Count: 3.6k

_Previously:_

_"Hi. You made it," you said with a laugh, beaming._

_"I did," he said with a chuckle. "Made good time, too. Just couldn't wait any longer to get to you," he admitted, capturing your lips in another kiss._

_Breaking apart, you finally took in the vehicle that had brought him here with a wide smile. "Is that what I think it is?"_

_He smirked then, turning towards the car but keeping an arm around your waist. "Yup. The Impala."_

__________

"It's....it's incredible. I can't believe you finished it! I didn't see it at the shop when I was there, though," you inquired, still in disbelief that you were finally holding Bucky in your arms here in the City of Angels.

"Well," he began with a quirked eyebrow, "It still wasn't much to look at for a long time, but once I decided to come out here, I knew I wanted to arrive in style," he grinned, squeezing you tighter to his side.

"And you've succeeded. You did all this yourself in 6 weeks?" you asked, reaching a hand out to caress the shiny black paint of the hood.

"No, not alone. And it took longer than that. I did finally have the time to work on it slowly once I had help, but I spent the past month showing Pete how to rebuild an engine and this was the perfect way to do that. I found a good parts dealer and once it was drivable, I took it to a place a few hours away and did the paint job myself. They only charged me for materials," he declared proudly with a smile.

"It's amazing. You're amazing," you stated, turning back toward him and raising a hand to thread your fingers in his chestnut strands. "I've missed you so much."

His only response was to pull you close and capture your lips with his, pulling your body flush against his. You were lost in each other once again before you remembered your possible audience and reluctantly took a step back.

You cleared your throat with a smile and turned back toward the Impala. Leaning down to glance into the car's black leather interior, your gaze lingered on the back seat that held so many memories. You straightened up then and grasped Bucky's hand in yours. "We'll have to take it for a ride. Later," you said, wiggling your eyebrows, which made him laugh. His throaty chuckle was one of your favorite sounds in the world.

"Absolutely," he replied with a grin. Bucky dropped your hand then, walking around and popping the trunk. He retrieved his duffle bag and, to your surprise, his guitar nestled in a hard black case. He noticed your reaction upon seeing the instrument and smirked. "You seemed to enjoy my last private performance," he whispered and pecked a kiss to your lips.

You felt heat rise to your face at the memory and a familiar warmth in your belly began to flare. "I'm ready for an encore," you answered coyly before leading him up the front step and into the house.

Bucky set his things in the living room and you gave him a short tour of the first floor, ending in the kitchen. Bucky offered to help finish the meal, but you assured him it was all under control. You told him he could take a seat at the table, but after sitting in the car for so many hours, he preferred to remain standing as he leaned against the counter and watched you. Feeling his eyes on you was plenty distracting, but he also happened to be wearing those jeans that hugged his thighs and backside perfectly along with a dark grey t-shirt that accentuated his muscular chest and arms.

A few finishing touches and you finally put all the food on the table with Bucky taking a seat across from you. He dove in, complimenting your cooking and grateful for a meal that didn't come from a drive-thru. Not even fifteen minutes into dinner, though, you found that food was no longer your primary desire. Brushing your bare foot against his calf and then higher up past his knee, you noticed that Bucky had stopped eating and set down his fork.

You held his gaze and smirked at his reaction, stormy-grey eyes now merely a sliver with their color hidden by lust-blown pupils. He then quickly pushed his chair away from the table to stand as you did the same. Bucky tossed you over his shoulder, a squeal escaping your lips as he bounded up the stairs two at a time and easily found the bedroom down the hall.

Bouncing lightly as your back hit the mattress, you wasted no time to rid yourselves of restrictive clothing and grasped for one another, seeking skin against skin. Each touch felt brand new as you joined together, restoring what time and distance had separated over the torturous months apart.

Afterward as you settled into each others' arms to rest, you inhaled deeply to calm your breathing. A hint of salty air touched your nose from the breeze slipping through the balcony door that was open a inch. Feeling whole once again with Bucky in your arms, you sighed contentedly and fell into a deep, blissful sleep.

________________

Brightness grew behind your lids bringing you slowly to consciousness before your lashes fluttered open. Gathering the sheet around you and glancing to the side, your foggy brain registered that Bucky was nowhere in sight. The sheets where he previously lay were cool and your brow furrowed in confusion until you took a deep breath and a delicious smell invaded your senses. Ripping the sheet free from the bed, you wrapped it around yourself and followed the scent downstairs to the kitchen.

Bucky stood at the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants slung low on his hips, his sculpted torso bare and glorious. The smell of pancakes made you salivate almost as much as the delicious man before you.

"What's all this?" you asked in a raspy voice, finally announcing your presence.

"Good morning," Bucky replied as he turned your way with a smile. "You made dinner last night so I thought I'd return the favor. Had to rummage through cupboards for a bit, but I found everything." He closed the distance between you with spatula in hand, pressing a fiery and passionate kiss upon your lips. His free hand wandered underneath the sheet, seeking the supple flesh underneath.

"Mmm," you groaned against his mouth. "I'll definitely need those carbs if we're gonna go another round," you smirked, shoving him playfully.

"If?"

"When," you said with a wink, then settling in a chair at the table while you watched him putter around your kitchen. It was a sight you could definitely get used to.

"So besides carb-loading and _'another round'_ , what else is happening today?" he asked, sliding a few pancakes onto a large plate.

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could hit the beach later and then take a drive up the coast. We could do some of the tourist-y stuff, if you want. Rodeo Drive, Grauman's Chinese Theatre with the Hollywood Walk of Fame, hike up to the Hollywood sign...I've done most of that stuff but tend to avoid those areas now because of traffic," you answered with a shrug.

"I'm okay with whatever, as long as it's with you," Bucky smiled, pecking another kiss on your lips before setting down the plate and a bottle of maple syrup on the table. "The beach and a drive sounds good to me. Although, I didn't bring any swim trunks. In fact, I'm not sure I own any..."

You snorted. "I figured as much, so I bought a few for you. Pick the ones you like and I'll return the others," you said, spearing a few pancakes and putting them on your own plate before grabbing the syrup.

"Thanks, doll."

"You're welcome," you answered through a mouthful of fluffy pancakes.

He chuckled at that, then digging into his own plate. "So how does the premiere thing work tomorrow?"

You held up a finger as you struggled to chew and swallow a large bite of pancake, then clearing your throat. "Mm. Well, I have a wardrobe team coming in the morning. They'll have a few suits for you to try on and they can make any small alterations. I gave them rough sizing for you, but without measurements it's more of a challenge. I've already picked out a dress, so it's just jewelry and shoes I'll need to choose. We'll start getting ready in the late afternoon, but have a few hours to ourselves if there's something you want to do," you finished, stuffing another heavenly bite of pancake in your mouth.

Bucky nodded, dragging a forkful of pancake through the pool of syrup on his plate. "Sounds good."

You were distracted then. A drop of syrup fell from a bite an inch from your mouth with the sticky substance hitting your bare skin and disappearing underneath the sheet that covered you. "Damn," you muttered, reaching for a napkin. "Now I'm all sticky."

Bucky watched you as you pulled the sheet lower and failed to clean the drip. "I can think of a better way to clean that off," he responded in a low voice, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip.

You paused in movement and held his gaze, a smile stretching across your face as you shared the same thought. Pancakes forgotten, you leapt from the table with Bucky at your heels, barely pausing to grab the bottle of maple syrup. You squealed as he grabbed a handful of your sheet and you spun out of his grasp, running the last few steps without a stitch of clothing on as you headed for the bedroom.

______________

After your sticky, sensual adventures that late morning, you shared a shower and then got dressed for the beach. Bucky settled on a pair of dark blue board shorts that hit him just above the knee, but still thankfully accentuated his assets. You slipped on your swimsuit followed by a cover-up and grabbed towels, umbrella, sunscreen, a hat, and a few snacks before packing it all into the Impala.

The engine growled to life and you clapped your hands in glee, sliding in next to Bucky with his arm around you.

"It's gorgeous, Bucky. Really. You did an amazing job restoring it," you praised him, placing a hand on his thigh.

"Thank you," he smiled gratefully with those laugh lines by his eyes making an appearance. You loved them even more when you knew you were the cause of them. "So where to?"

You directed him out of your neighborhood and onto the freeway heading toward a more secluded beach about ten minutes away that you had discovered a while back. Parking, you slipped off your sandals and linked your hand with Bucky's as you strolled through the sand toward the water.

Dropping the towels and bags in the sand, you had set up a beach umbrella and laid down with your face in the shade while Bucky went into the water. It wasn't long before a very wet Bucky shook his damp hair in your face and you jumped to your feet to retaliate. You spent the rest of the afternoon chasing each other in the waves and splashing one another until you were both exhausted and soaked. The pair of you settled back on the towels as you made out lazily on the sand with hands wandering occasionally.

Eventually, the snacks were gone and you were both starving, so you gathered everything and crawled back into the Impala. Bucky drove under your direction to a casual sandwich shop a few miles away. You ate outside, watching the sun slip below the ocean until the sky was painted with pinks and oranges.

Darkness began to fall as Bucky drove up the coast with you by his side. He pulled over into a secluded, scenic overlook and killed the engine. Far from the city, you were finally able to see the stars begin to twinkle in the velvety sky, so you and Bucky got out and sat on the car's trunk, laying on the back window wrapped in each other's arms. Bucky shared the constellations he knew and pointed out visible planets at this time of year. He always loved space and was in awe of astronauts who had been there, the true heroes of our time according to him.

A shiver ran through you as the breeze picked up and Bucky pulled you closer, rubbing a hand over the goose bumped flesh of your arm with his lips finding yours. The kiss progressed until you hopped off the car and Bucky was holding the rear door open for you, climbing onto the familiar back seat. A little less head room with an actual roof, but you managed to recreate that sweaty goodbye over two years ago that had inexplicably led to this moment.

Each goodbye since then, no matter how impermanent, you had learned to appreciate each moment you spent together. You didn't want to waste one second, one touch, one word. Which possibly prompted your unexpected confession in the back of the '67 Chevy under the stars.

"I love you, Bucky."

Your words hung in the air a short moment and you raised your head off his chest where it had been resting to meet his eyes. Perhaps you had expected shock or disbelief, but you only found the same expression of love most likely mirrored on your own face.

"I love you, too, Y/N," he admitted, grasping the back of your head gently to capture your lips in a kiss to seal those first words of love into that perfect moment.

_____________

The next morning, you were woken at 8am by a ring of the doorbell. Having neglected to set an alarm, you cringed at the sight of your morning hair and bags under your eyes in the mirror before rushing down the stairs, but at least it offered the miracle team a challenge. You let the team in and they brought garment bags, boxes full of shoes, and other accessories. They set up in the living room and you scampered back upstairs to gently wake Bucky, who was still sound asleep, with kisses and mild tickling. He grumbled and whined a bit, but eventually, you convinced him to lumber down the stairs and got him to try on some suits with the promise of some alone time soon.

You went into the kitchen and made some fruity kale smoothies for everyone, careful of any allergies or dietary issues. Presenting a glass of the frosty liquid to each person, you then tried on and selected a pair of shoes and jewelry for the premiere. The two tailors working on Bucky's suit complained that they didn't know your boyfriend's shoulders were so wide or his thighs so thick, which just made you laugh as the long-haired brunet blushed at their comments.

An hour and a half later, you waved goodbye to the wardrobe team and thanked them for being willing to work so last minute. Both yours and Bucky's outfits were laid out on the couch, pressed and ready for you to change into in a few hours.

Upon asking Bucky if there's anything he wanted to do in the meantime, he simply answered that he wanted to stay in and watch a movie, which was perfectly fine with you. Bucky whipped up a simple lunch and you ate in the TV room while the movie played. It was a perfect, quiet afternoon in anticipation of the craziness to come later that night.

You were roused once again by the doorbell, having drifted off some time during the movie. Crawling off the couch slothfully, you then pulled Bucky up by his hands and stretched.

"The cavalry is here. Time to make us pretty," you teased, pecking a kiss on his lips before leading him downstairs by the hand.

Hair and makeup had arrived along with one member of the wardrobe team to help you both dress. The whole process took about two hours involving Spanx, double-stick tape, and a lot more primping than you cared to do on a regular basis. With your hair and makeup flawless and strapped into an expensive dress that hugged you just right, you hardly recognized yourself in the full-length mirror. On nights like these, you weren't actually yourself, but more like someone playing a part. It was all for show but you got to be a real life princess for the evening.

Utterly distracted by your own transformation, you looked up in surprise to see Bucky fully dressed and looking devastatingly handsome. His long, chestnut strands were slicked back into a small bun with a small amount of stubble on his chiseled jaw. The slate grey suit tapered gracefully from his wide muscular shoulders down to his trim waist with a crisp white shirt and tie underneath. Pants with a clean pleat down each leg were tailored perfectly, causing you to let out a low whistle and rotate your hand with one finger out so he would give you a stunning 360 degree view.

"Not bad, huh? They tried to make me shave, but..."

"Good. I'd fight for that stubble, too," you grinned, biting your lip as a wave of lust pulsed through you. "You look incredible, Mr. Barnes," you said as you stepped toward him, ignoring the protests of the woman still hemming a section of your dress.

"God, you look gorgeous in that dress," Bucky stated with love in his eyes, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you gently. "I can't wait to rip it off you later," he added with a lustful whisper.

"Hey, no ripping. It's a rental," you spoke sternly. "But I can't wait to get my hands under that suit either," you said with a wink and then stepping back into place to have your hem repaired.

Fifteen minutes later, you had fixed your lipstick a few times after being unable to stop kissing your hunky boyfriend, but you were officially ready. You grabbed your clutch purse with the essentials and slid into the back of the chauffeured car that Tony had sent. Bucky wanted to drive, but you told him that parking was just too insane. He laughed at the fact that you had to slouch in your seat and avoid bending at the waist to prevent wrinkles. You swatted at his arm with a chuckle of your own, or as much as you could in your tight dress.

Your driver took you to the back entrance as per instructions, but you could see the madness of the red carpet with cars and people wrapped around the block. You thanked the driver and he handed you a card with the number to call when you were ready to leave. Looping your arm in Bucky's, you both took a deep breath and approached the door where a security guard asked for your name and checked IDs. He opened the door with a nod and you stepped into the venue with another man directing you down the hall and into a reception room.

Bucky's eyes grew wide to see the high-ceilinged room with crystal chandeliers and gilded doorways. Theaters like this were built specifically for these kind of premieres with an area for cocktails and canapés beforehand. Guests were dressed in their finest, sparkling and shining in every shade of gown for women and handsome men in suits from every designer. You noticed Bucky had stiffened slightly with a clench of his jaw, nervous to be in such an unfamiliar setting.

You gave his arm a squeeze and drew his attention to you until he met your gaze. "Hey. It's not as intimidating as it looks. Tonight is a celebration and it should be for fun. If it's not, you tell me and we can go, okay?" you offered.

He focused on you alone and took a deep breath, allowing himself to smile again. "I'm okay. But thank you. I love you," he said quietly, carefully pecking a kiss to your painted lips without smudging them.

"I love you, too. Thank you for this. For coming all this way and supporting me, you have no idea what it means to me," you assured him with a smile.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied.

"There you are, Y/N," a voice spoke loudly as you saw a familiar face approaching.

"Hi, Tony," you replied as he pulled you in for a loose hug and a peck on the cheek.

"You look ravishing, Y/N. Vastly different from the usual 'haggard writer' look I see through Skype while you're begging me for a deadline extension," he teased, smirking with a wink behind a pair of tinted glasses.

You rolled your eyes slightly, "Yes, well, we can't all look as perfect as you at all times, Tony."

"Seriously, though, you look lovely. And this must be the handsome distraction and the reason why I couldn't get my writer to focus for half the year," Tony joked as he turned his attention to Bucky.

"He's kidding, Bucky," you assured him when you saw your boyfriend blanch at your agent's words. "I can distract myself from writing all by myself. Tony Stark, this is Bucky Barnes. Bucky, this is my agent, Tony," you said in introduction as the two men shook hands.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Stark," he said respectfully.

"Please, just call me Tony. And it seems you were a means of inspiration as well, so I guess I'll forgive you. I have to go schmooze some more, but just a heads up, Rogers at 12 o'clock," Tony leaned in to whisper those last few words before he walked away with a nod.

Your eyes flew wide and within seconds, you discovered the man's perfectly styled dirty-blond hair and a pair of bright blue eyes met yours from across the room. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting before making his way toward you.

"Is that Steve Rogers?" Bucky asked with a tone of admiration in his voice. "Looks like he's headed this way. Are you two close friends?"

"Um..." you hesitated, watching Steve's progress across the room as he continued to shake hands and greet people along the way. "About that. There's something I should probably tell you..."

_________________

_Part 12 coming soon..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap! Guess it's time to come clean, huh? What did you think about going to the beach with Bucky and all that followed? ;) Maple syrup, right? Heh. :D It was fun to describe the preparations for the premiere. All the fancy clothing and jewelry...and not to mention Bucky looking like Seb at TIFF 2015? So hot! And then there's Steve. Any theories of how that's all going to go down? Next part coming soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Tony Stark, Steve, others mentioned. 
> 
> Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind. 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Tiny bit of angst, mostly fluff.
> 
> Word Count: 3.6k

_Previously:_

_Your eyes flew wide and within seconds, you discovered the man's perfectly styled dirty-blond hair and a pair of bright blue eyes met yours from across the room. He smiled and raised a hand in greeting before making his way toward you._

_"Is that Steve Rogers?" Bucky asked with a tone of admiration in his voice. "Looks like he's headed this way. Are you two close friends?"_

_"Um..." you hesitated, watching Steve's progress across the room as he continued to shake hands and greet people along the way. "About that. There's something I should probably tell you..."_

_________________

"What is it?"

You shifted nervously, glancing at the approaching Steve before returning your gaze to Bucky. "Remember how I was seeing someone and broke it off just before I came back into town?" you asked quietly, then hesitating.

"Uh...I guess so, why..." Bucky began, then pausing as the light came on and his eyes grew wide. "You and...he...you were dating Steve Rogers before me?" he hissed at a whisper.

You nodded slowly. "Yes."

"But he's...I...how could you not tell me?" he replied, a look of hurt passing over his features.

"I'm sorry, but at what point do you mention that your last boyfriend was literally a famous movie star? Would you have responded any differently, even back then?" you asked as he chewed on his lip in consideration.

"Maybe not..."

"Look," you began, looping your arms around Bucky's waist and leaning close, "the point is, I chose you. Okay? I broke up with him before I left L.A., not knowing if there was still a chance for us. I hoped, but either way I still chose you even if I wasn't sure you would do the same. I want you. Only you."

Bucky finally met your gaze and took a deep breath, then nodding. "Okay."

You exhaled in relief. "Okay. I love you."

He let out half a smile and pulled you closer. "I love you, too," Bucky declared, then pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours a short moment.

You released your grip on him and turned around just in time to see Steve merely feet away, his million dollar smile on full display. He wore an expertly cut tuxedo over his muscular frame, his hair perfectly quaffed and chiseled jaw clean-shaven. Eyeing the two of you, Steve offered a soft gaze and came to a stop before you.

"Y/N, it's so good to see you," he grinned, leaning forward for a light hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Hi, Steve. It's been a while. Great to see you, too," you replied, then returning your focus to Bucky, who was fidgeting with his tie. "Steve Rogers, this is Bucky Barnes, my boyfriend. Bucky, this is Steve Rogers," you spoke, gesturing between the two men as Steve offered his hand.

"Wow, so this is the infamous Bucky?" Steve asked as Bucky accepted his hand and gave it a shake, the brunet seeming a bit starstruck. "I'm really glad that things worked out for you two. It's nice to finally meet you, Bucky," the blond finished with a nod.

Bucky took a moment to respond, "Um...I, uh...it's really great to meet you, Mr. Rogers. I'm a big fan," he finally replied with a nervous smile.

"Please, just Steve is fine. And I'm a big fan of yours. I hear you were a big influence on Y/N's work. I guess it was all meant to be, then, huh?" he smiled at you with a wink.

Bucky looked your way in confusion, but you just grinned at him and mouthed the words "You'll see".

Steve opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted when his name was called by a gorgeous brunette with kind eyes, painted lips, and soft curls just past her shoulder. "Steve, darling, can you come here a moment?" she called out in a posh British accent.

"I'll be right there," he replied to her before turning back to you.

Your eyes flew wide, then speaking in a whisper. "Is that Margaret Carter? You did one of your first films with her, right? I didn't know you were still in touch...wait...Peggy?" you asked with an excited grin as the pieces fell together in your mind.

Steve ducked his head as he nodded slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yup. Some things just take a little bit more time, right?" he shrugged.

"I'm really happy for you," you told Steve sincerely, holding his gaze.

"Thank you, Y/N. I'm happy for you, too. It was great to meet you, Bucky. I better get back," he said to you both with a raise of his hand before he walked back to his date.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" you asked, turning back toward Bucky whose gaze was still off in the distance. "Buck?"

"He was so nice and...normal," Bucky replied, still in awe. "And he knew about me? How?"

You slipped your hand back into his and gave it a squeeze. "I told him the truth about why I wanted to break up before I left town and shared the story of how you and I met. He could tell there was still something there, for me at least, and he even encouraged me to find out if there was a true possibility for us. He really is a good man. Just not the man for me," you ended, brushing a hand across Bucky's stubbled cheek. He grasped it and pressed a kiss to your palm before releasing it.

"I guess I have him to thank, then?" he asked with a shake of his head. "Wow. I met Steve Rogers," he grinned.

Letting out a burst of laughter, you pulled Bucky further into the room and introduced him to a few more people before the doors to the theater opened and everyone filed in to take their seats. You grasped Bucky's hand as the opening credits began to roll. Now it was your turn to be nervous. You had seen some rough cuts and spent a few days on set, but this was the big production. The moment of truth where you found out if all the pieces came together just as you had hoped.

The first scene opened with a girl pulling an empty bag from the closet and stuffing it with clothes in a hurry. The sound of a zipper closing and she's down the stairs, feeling her way toward the door in the dark before she stepped out into the cricket-filled air. Adding the bag to her already packed car, she gave one last look at the dark house before climbing into the driver's seat and starting the engine.

The scene then cut to the car racing down the highway as voiceover was heard of the girl reading a note that is shown left behind on her bed. Her mother would find it in the morning, explaining how she was finally leaving town how she always wanted to and that she just had to chase her dreams. Next the camera panned up from the road, showing steam rising out from underneath the hood of her car which was parked on the dusty shoulder. The girl was spotted sitting on the car's trunk while the sun rose behind her.

As a tow truck appeared on the horizon on screen, you felt Bucky grip your thigh and you glanced his way to see a teary smile upon his face. You felt happy tears threatening as well, pulling Bucky down by his tie for a kiss before you both settled in to watch a fictionalized version of your love story play out on the screen.

You wrote the screenplay almost a year ago and had changed names to protect the innocent, but anyone who was there would know that it was you and Bucky. The two leads were unknowns, their previous works including commercials and supporting roles on tv shows. Thankfully, they had great chemistry and portrayed their characters exceptionally well. Some of those acting as townspeople were more well-known and were able to help draw attention to the film.

Even though parts of the script were cut during editing and different inflection was used for dialogue, it gave you chills to hear not only the words you wrote but the words you also had spoken yourself. It wasn't exact, but close, especially during the fight in the hotel room. You still felt a flash of shame that you had acted so selfishly back then. Bucky slipped an arm around you and pressed a kiss to your temple, bringing a smile to your face.

Apologies were shared at the fictional auto shop and tears were shed, which then lead to the scene you were most anxious about. You had debated whether or not to include the car sex scene, but in the end decided it was crucial to their story arc and an important part of the eventual goodbye. A different type of classic car was used, as you had written, but the scene was emotional and tasteful. It still brought some heat to your face, though, as you conjured memories from that moment years ago.

She was back on the road then, wind whipping through her hair until she decided to pull over to the side and got out of the car. The girl stood in the middle of the abandoned road, looked one direction, and then the other with a look of indecision upon her face. She got back into her car and glanced at the map spread across the passenger's seat before digging through her purse for her phone.

The last shot showed a wide smile upon her face followed by her thumb hovering over the green call button and then the screen went black. Credits began to roll and the sound of applause was heard as you finally came back to the present. You took a deep breath, blinking a few times before you registered that Bucky was speaking to you.

"It's...it's amazing, doll. Wow. And you said romance wasn't your forte," he grinned, giving you a tight squeeze as much as the theater seats would allow.

Chuckling thickly, you sniffled and met his eye. "Well, I had the right kind of inspiration," you admitted, brushing a finger under your eye to remove any black smudges from your tears. It had been an emotional experience to witness this particular project come to fruition. "Truthfully, I was a little nervous about how you would react to my using our story for a film."

"Really? I admit, I was surprised and I'd be more apprehensive if it was exactly the same, but you tweaked it just enough. I loved it. Brought up wonderful memories of that time," he said with a smile. "So...what happens to the girl?" he asked in a low voice as people continued to mill around and leave the theater.

You shrugged with a smile. "I'm not sure. I left that open to the audience and honestly, I didn't even know when I wrote it."

"You wrote it before we—"

"Yup. I had just finished the script a few weeks before I came back into town. I was actually supposed to be working on a different project, but something kept nudging me to finish the one story that I couldn't leave alone. Inspiration is a fickle thing, so I just let it flow. You were never far from my mind that whole time we were apart," you confessed, placing a hand on Bucky's thigh.

He stood then, pulling you up as well before wrapping his arms around your waist. "I think those two kids can make it," he said knowingly, then pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

"I hope so," you whispered as you broke apart.

His brow furrowed then. "Wait...so how did Steve Rogers know I was inspiration for this film?" Bucky inquired.

"Tony mentioned that Steve was sent the script when they were looking for the leads, but casting ultimately decided to go with unknowns, which I'm actually grateful for. He must have seen my name as the writer and connected the dots with what I had told him about you and me," you answered with a shrug.

"Huh," he replied quizzically. "He said he was a fan of mine. I'm not gonna get over that," he declared with stars in his eyes.

You laughed as Bucky led you out the double doors and into the foyer that was packed with people, many of whom were now vying for your attention.

"We don't have to stay, Buck. It's okay," you stated with a soft hand against his chest.

Bucky just shook his head and hugged you tight before releasing you. "This is your night. You deserve recognition. Like you said, it's a celebration. For you," he smiled, joining in the applause that had erupted around you.

You brought a hand up to your face in mild embarrassment, finding yourself the center of attention. Tony came to your side and said he "never doubted you for a minute about the ending", to which you rolled your eyes but thanked him. The two young actors who played the leads said hello to you along with the producers and director. Some time had passed before you looked around to see that Bucky was standing off to the side with a drink in his hand. He gave you a smile and a thumbs up to say that he was okay, so you turned back to the conversation.

Thirty minutes later, you came to Bucky's side and stole a drink from his glass. "I'm ready to go," you declared.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I overheard that director wanting to talk to you about another future project. That's great, Y/N. You should go for it," he encouraged you.

"Not tonight. I have their contact info and they have mine. The talk can wait. I'm all talked out," you confessed, pulling Bucky into a hug and tucking your head under his chin. "I'm ready to go home."

Bucky rubbed a hand against your back and sighed. "Okay. Let's call the chauffeur guy."

"I already texted him. He'll be here in five," you said with a yawn. The adrenaline had kept you going most of the night, but it now began to dissipate.

"Okay, then," he chuckled.

A few last goodbyes and you two slipped out the back entrance and into the car where you collapsed into your seat. The city lights streaked past through the tinted windows making you drowsy, and in no time, you were awakened by Bucky. He helped you up the walk to your condo and you slipped off your heels first thing, carefully setting them in the box provided by the wardrobe team.

Reaching for the zipper on our dress, you found it difficult to manage so you turned to ask Bucky for help only to see him standing in the dining room near the floor to ceiling windows that looked out over the city. He had his back to you as you approached. Coming to his side, you saw that he had loosened his tie and undone the top buttons of his shirt. You opened your mouth to speak but thought against it upon seeing his faraway expression.

He stood with hands buried in his suit pockets, his gorgeous profile on full display from your vantage point as he began to speak.

"So, this is your life now, huh? Kinda hard to compete," he said with a sad smile, then looking your way.

"No, _this_ ," you began, gesturing to the elaborate wardrobes and jewels around your neck, "this is not my normal life. The fancy dresses and parties, that happens maybe twice a year and I'm always glad to get it over with by the end of the night. And there's no competition, Bucky. It's not small town life versus big city life. I don't want you to think that I'm asking you to choose, either. L.A. has offered me wonderful opportunities and connections, but it still doesn't feel like home. Not without you," you said, gathering both of his hands in yours.

Bucky glanced down at your joined hands and replied softly, "So what does it all mean for us? You are so incredibly talented, Y/N. You deserve this life and you fit in here. I could never forgive myself if I became the reason you walked away."

You shook your head firmly. "That's exactly what I'm saying, why does it have to be one or the other? I go months on end where I barely leave the house, so technically, I can work wherever there's WiFi. You have that now, right?" you asked with a coy smile.

He chuckled. "As I recall, it was installed without my knowledge, but yeah. It's there. So, what...you'd stay with me for part of the year?"

You cocked your head with a shrug. "If you'll have me. You'd get to see me in full-immersion-crazy-writer-mode. That'd be fun," you grinned.

Bucky threw his head back in laughter. "I can't wait. And I'll take you any way I can get you. I love you, Y/N," he confessed, using a finger under your chin to tilt your head up.

"I love you, too, Bucky. So much," you replied with a slight crack in your voice, then clearing it. "I know it still seems hard, but we can make it happen. There will be compromises and struggles, but every relationship has those. I know you talked about meeting me half-way, but relationships aren't 50/50. It's about two people who try to give 100% every single day. We choose each other every day without fail. Sometimes one has to be willing to carry a little more of the weight, but as long as we're on the same path headed in the same direction with goals in common, we can do it. Are you with me?" you asked, touching your forehead to his.

He let out a sniffle followed by a chuckle. "God, you're amazing. And once again, very convincing with your fancy words. Yes, I am with you. And for the record, I chose you, too, all those years ago. I didn't know how or when, but I knew it had to be you," he stated, pressing his lips to yours that quickly escalated into a passionate kiss that was headed for more, but you were now hindered by those fancy clothes.

Chest heaving, you pulled away reluctantly. "Okay, so we gotta get out of these designer threads so we can shower off the goop in our hair and feel more human before we can get down and dirty," you proposed with a wiggle of your eyebrows.

He laughed at that and agreed with a nod as he followed you into the living room where you stripped off the expensive clothing and packed it away carefully. You really didn't want to have to pay full price for any of that. Racing up the stairs only in your underthings, Bucky was right behind you heading for the shower.

___________

You woke up chilly the next morning, pulling the sheet around your bare body before noticing that Bucky wasn't in sight. The balcony door was wide open, hence the cool breeze, so you slipped out of bed and donned your terrycloth robe before stepping out into the morning sunlight.

The sight before you nearly took your breath away, stopping you in the balcony doorway. The ocean was quite the view, but more notably, Bucky was clad only in those sweats you loved on him, the material tied low on his hips. His torso was bare and his hair wild, giving you the urge to caress every single inch of him. Not that you hadn't done that already last night.

Glancing back into the room, you spotted evidence of your late night escapades. The down comforter and pillows were strewn about the room along with what little clothing you managed to slip on after a shower. Bucky's guitar case was open revealing the that he had serenaded you with sometime during the night. Once again, he played without a stitch of clothing but this time the song choice was "Rhythm & Blues" by The Head and the Heart, a new favorite of yours. You had practically tackled him after singing that last line of " _Won't you let me turn you on_ ".

Snapping back to the present, you turned back toward Bucky and stepped out onto the wooden balcony to wrap your arms around the handsome, muscular man. He broke your grip and pulled you around to face him, wide grin upon his face.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he greeted you with a coffee-flavored kiss. He had a mug in his hand and another resting on the railing for you.

"Mmm. I'd sure call this a good morning," you replied with a light swat to Bucky's shapely behind.

He yelped slightly at that, then setting down his mug to retaliate by tickling your sides. You finally cried "uncle" and he released you. Stepping up to the railing, you grasped the mug in both hands while Bucky embraced you from behind. You both stood in comfortable silence for a moment.

"I wouldn't mind seeing this view more often. With you," Bucky said with a tone of finality.

Your heart leapt in your throat, hoping that it meant what you thought it did. While you had promised you could work from his home, you had hoped he would be willing to visit you out here more often.

"Yeah?" you replied casually. "Like how often?"

"As often as possible. Every few months, at least," he stated, then allowing you to turn inside his arms to face him so you could see he was serious.

A wide grin spread across your face. "I'll take it. 100%?" you asked.

"You and me. 100%," he replied, sealing the deal with a kiss in the early California sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, boy, you guys. It was a little odd writing Steve and Bucky meeting. Even as an AU. haha. :D Hope you like their interaction, though! I really thought this would be the end, but surprise! An epilogue is coming. I do love a good epilogue. Hope you do, too! And I also hope you like this part! Please let me know your thoughts!! All feedback is welcome. I love you guys.


	13. Epilogue (End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Tony Stark, Pepper, DumDum Dugan, Peter Parker, others mentioned. 
> 
> Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. Your second chance with Bucky is not without its challenges, but you’re both determined to make it work. But eventually, a decision must be made in order for you to fully be together. How can you choose? Or will it be made for you? 
> 
> Song Inspiration: Angela by The Lumineers
> 
> Warnings: Tiny bit of angst, mostly fluff. Mention of pregnancy. 
> 
> Word Count: 3.7k

_Two Years Later ___

__Cruising down the small town’s Main Street, you turned the steering wheel sharply and pulled into the auto shop’s dusty lot before parking the ’67 Chevy Impala out front. You jumped out of the driver’s seat and headed straight for the main office, throwing the door open roughly before entering._ _

__“Hey, DumDum. Where is he?” you asked, never slowing a step._ _

__“Afternoon, Y/N,” the mustachioed man replied, answering your question by hooking his thumb toward the garage._ _

__Stepping into the cavernous garage, you searched for the long-haired brunet but grew impatient. “James Buchanan Barnes!” you shouted into the echoing space, then seeing a head pop up in between cars._ _

__Bucky started to walk your way, wide smile upon his face as he wiped greasy hands on a rag. “Hey, doll. You look…amazing. Wow. What’re you…wait…” he paused, face dropping when he saw your less-than-pleased expression, “what time is it?”_ _

__“45 minutes past the time when we should’ve been on the road, Buck,” you answered him, arms crossed over your chest._ _

__“Oh, man…I’m sorry, babe. I just got caught up and…”_ _

__“I know,” you said with a resigned sigh. “It’s fine, but you’ve gotta get cleaned up so we can go, alright?”_ _

__“Okay,” he agreed, giving that sweet smile of his that got him out of just about anything these days. “You really do look incredible, though. Gonna be hard to keep my hands off you…”_ _

__“Don’t you touch me with those greasy hands!” you warned him with a pointed finger, backing away._ _

__Bucky smirked then, still approaching slowly. “What? I thought you liked me all sweaty and greasy.”_ _

__You squealed then, dodging away from his outstretched hands. “Don’t you dare! We can get plenty sweaty later, but right now I need you showered and dressed ASAP, you hear me?” you said as both a promise and a threat._ _

__He straightened up with hands in surrender. “Alright, I’ll get going. Can I have a kiss first?” he asked when he was only a few inches away._ _

__You relented, ensuring that Bucky’s hands were clasped tightly behind his back before offering a lingering kiss that under different circumstances would have definitely become more. He pecked one last kiss to your lips and then stepped back with a grin._ _

__“You gonna be alright finishing up there, Pete?” Bucky asked, calling out into the space behind him._ _

__To your surprise, Peter popped up from in between the cars where Bucky had been moments before. He was nearly 18, taller and even more of a string bean than he had been when you first met him. You suspected he would fill out his features in the next few years, though._ _

__“Sure thing, Buck. Thanks for the help,” Peter replied with ears tinged pink. You weren’t sure if that was from what he overheard or if that was just his natural reaction to you ever since that first encounter years ago. “Hey, Mrs. Barnes.”_ _

__“Hi, Peter,” you replied with a smile. He always addressed you formally, even though you’d told him multiple times that he could call you by your first name. It was always Mrs. Barnes or Ma’am, but you preferred the former. You turned back to Bucky, who had gathered the last of his things and was ready to go. “Do you want to take the truck back?”_ _

__“Nah, I’ll just ride with you,” he replied as he followed you out through the office. You both said your goodbyes to Peter and DumDum before climbing back into the Impala with you behind the wheel._ _

___________ _

__Half an hour later, you were back on the road. Bucky looked dapper in his suit and dress shirt with no tie, damp hair brushing his shoulders as he turned the Impala onto the highway. He rested a hand on your knee as he drove with his left while evening sunlight filtered through the back window._ _

__You loved these quiet moments with just you and he and the open road. Most of your trips home had been by airplane for the sake of time, but the two of you had made the drive from L.A. last week just because you could. It might be the last road trip for a little while._ _

__The two years since Bucky’s first trip out west had been a whirlwind of travel mixed with periods of calm. You both kept your promises to put each other first with fierce determination to make it work. There were squabbles here and there with the occasional disagreement, but neither of you could spend more than an hour being upset with the other. It wasn’t easy, but it was worth it._ _

__Bucky stayed that first visit for ten days before returning home, but plans were made for you to spend a month with him within the following weeks. At first it all involved a lot of scheduling and compromises. However, eventually you were able to condense all your meetings and collaborative projects that required you to be in L.A. instead of them being spread out and disruptive to your time together. As much as you enjoyed your work and loved your adoptive home, the eternal Summer of Southern California lost it’s charms after being without the man you loved for long periods of time._ _

__In the end, you worked things out so you were in L.A. for three months and then spent the next three with Bucky and so on with rare weekend trips in between. That first year passed by and you fell into a rhythm of quiet small town life mixed with spurts of Hollywood glamour, which Bucky became more used to and now enjoyed in limited amounts. There was a change in your routine shortly after, however._ _

__You had just left a collaborative writing session and reached your car when you got an unexpected call from Bucky. He was flying in that night out of the blue, which surprised you since he was supposed to visit for two weeks the following month. Bucky was vague about his reasoning at the time, only stating that he had a meeting of some sort, but promised he would share more when he had something “solid”._ _

__Picking him up from the airport, you embraced him enthusiastically while displaying quite the public affection which made innocent bystanders blush. You pestered him on the drive home about this mysterious meeting, but he remained steadfast to keep mum. It drove you crazy, but he only said that it could be a “really great thing for us”._ _

__Bucky left the next morning for his appointment as you struggled to recover from sleep lost the night before. The benefit of being apart for quite some time was the truth of the phrase “ _Absence makes the heart grow fonder_ ”, along with other parts of your anatomy._ _

__Bucky returned a few hours later with the widest smile on his handsome face. He swept you off your feet and twirled you around the kitchen, making you giggle in surprise._ _

__“I got it!”_ _

__“Got what?” you asked breathlessly as he set you back on your feet._ _

__“I got the job,” Bucky declared, triumphant smile upon his face._ _

__You froze in place, shock evident in your features. “What?”_ _

__He led you by the hand into the living room and settled on the couch with you beside him before speaking. “I just had an interview at the local community college and they offered me the position of auto shop teacher. There’s some certification I have to finish, but hopefully I start in three weeks!” he told you, excited._ _

__“I…what? A teacher? You never mentioned that you wanted to teach,” you sputtered, still letting your mind catch up with this new information._ _

__“I didn’t really know I wanted to, but the past few years of showing Pete the ropes and DumDum as well, it just kind of sparked something in me. I like seeing the light come on when someone understands how everything is connected in an engine and when they learn to apply that newfound knowledge. I might not have personally chosen to be a mechanic in the beginning, but over time I’ve grown to love it. Plus, it’s a valuable skill to have. I’ll be able to teach kids who might not have the best opportunities in life, but should still be able to make their way in the world with a little schooling. Future grease monkeys of America,” he joked. “So? What do you think?” he asked, awaiting your reaction._ _

__“I’m…wow. I’m so happy for you, Bucky. You’ll be an amazing teacher,” you replied, brushing a hand across his stubbled cheek. “And you’re sure this is what you want? Living here in L.A., full time? Because I don’t want you doing this just for my benefit, I mean, I could never ask…”_ _

__“I know,” he interrupted. “You would never ask me to make the move, but this is my choice. I’ve seen how stretched thin you are at times with work and travel, although you’ve never complained and I love you for that. I want to do this for us and I think I can really be happy here, having you full time and also having a purpose. Plus, it does give us the option of going home for a while when the school year ends. It’s possible I could choose to teach Summer semester as well, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”_ _

__You let that information digest, feeling a little guilty that he had noticed your stress when you thought it was well hidden from him. You hadn’t wanted to worry him. “And the shop? You’ll be alright being away that much?” you asked, wanting to make sure he was positive about this change._ _

__“The shop is in good hands. DumDum has a handle on the business side, along with repairs and another buddy of mine, Gabe, he just moved to town and has been helping out. I don’t think you’ve met him yet, but having another set of hands helped me make the decision to start the job search. I think this is it, Y/N. This is the solution. Are you ready for me full time?” he inquired, expectantly._ _

__A smile stretched upon your face as the pieces fell together and you launched yourself into his arms with a squeal. “Yes, yes, yes!! I am so ready for you. I can’t believe you did this for me. I love you,” you said with tears threatening, grasping his face in your hands._ _

__“Of course I did it. You’ve been so patient and understanding. It was time. I love you so much,” he reciprocated, capturing your lips in a passionate, breath-taking kiss._ _

_____________ _

__After Bucky’s move west and the initial growing pains of living together full-time were settled, you fell into a happy routine. Bucky came home around the same time every evening and you even disciplined yourself to write during the day so you could take advantage of your time together. Your Malibu condo felt even more like a home with Bucky in it and you didn’t think you could possibly feel more happy._ _

__Six months after Bucky moved in, you spent a weekend getaway in Northern California at a gorgeous Bed & Breakfast overlooking a vineyard. It was nice to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city, but also to not have the family obligations of being back in your hometowns. You loved your family. Really. You both desperately needed a true vacation alone, though._ _

__Taking a walk one evening as the sun set over the neat rows of grape vines, Bucky slowly strolled beside you with his fingers tangled loosely with yours. His fingertips were still stained black from working on cars and probably would be for life, but it had become one of the things you loved about him. He worked so hard and his hands showed the evidence of that. You gave him a squeeze to gain his attention._ _

__“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked as he met your eyes. “You’ve been quiet since dinner.”_ _

__He shrugged with a hand in his pocket. “Just thinking. It’s been almost two years that we’ve been together, hasn’t it? Two years since you came back into my life,” he said with a smile._ _

__You looked off into the distance a short moment. “Yeah. I think you’re right. Next week, I believe.”_ _

__Oddly enough, you weren’t one to dwell on specific dates to celebrate your relationship. You spent every day feeling so incredibly lucky to be with the man you love. Honestly, you were a little surprised that Bucky was the one to think about how long you had been together._ _

__“It’s been an amazing two years.”_ _

__“I agree,” you replied as you climbed the steps leading up to the quaint B &B you were staying in. Reaching the top step, Bucky lingered on the wide front porch with you beside him. “Best two years of my life,” you declared with a grin before pulling him close by the front of his shirt for a kiss._ _

__He stepped back then, grasping your hands in his as he took a deep breath. “Y/N….I don’t know how I got so lucky. I really don’t. I don’t know if it was destiny or chance or maybe it really was just sheer luck….but all I know is that I’m so grateful to be with you. I am more in love with you than ever and I have no intention of ever letting you go,” he said, dropping down to one knee on those last few words._ _

__A hand flew to your lips as a gasp escaped you, tears already threatening to spill._ _

__“Y/N (Y/L/N)….will you do me the honor of marrying me?” he asked, producing a square velvet box and opening it for you to see the ring inside._ _

__“YES!! Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” you exclaimed as you tackled him in a hug, nearly toppling him while still on his knee. Bucky stood up then, plucking the ring from the box, and grasping your left hand in his. “It’s gorgeous, Bucky. I love it,” you whispered as he slipped the ring on your finger._ _

__“It was my grandmother’s. I knew you would appreciate it,” he grinned, raising your hand up to brush his lips over your knuckles._ _

__“It’s just perfect. I love you, Bucky Barnes,” you said as happy tears streaked down your face._ _

__“I love you, too. More than I ever though possible,” he replied, leaning down for a lingering kiss as the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky._ _

__After proper celebrations that night, you spent the next morning sharing the news with both sides of the family and close friends. Everyone was ecstatic and not the least bit surprised. Your whole family loved Bucky and his family loved you. They were all spread out geographically, however, which meant plans for the wedding would be interesting. Making everyone happy as far as location and agreeing on the number of guests, etc., would be nearly impossible._ _

__The whole drive back to L.A, you talked it over without finding a real solution. L.A. was out of the question because you couldn’t ask both families to travel your way. It was too much, even though it was now your home. Selecting either of your hometowns would cause problems as well with a four hour drive either way. Someone would be upset and there wasn’t really a location in between to make both happy._ _

__After three days of discussion, you came to the only conclusion that made you and Bucky happy without losing your minds and only a few people mildly upset._ _

__You eloped._ _

__It took a few days to get the proper paperwork, but in the end you put on the new dress you bought for the occasion and arrived at the courthouse for your scheduled ceremony. Bucky arrived separately wearing a new suit and looking handsome as ever with his hair tied back just like that memorable movie premiere on his first visit._ _

__You felt flutters of excitement as he entered the room with Tony following behind. Pepper stood beside you as your impromptu Maid of Honor and the couple would serve as your witnesses. You thought about inviting a few close friends who lived in town, but decided to keep it as small and intimate as possible._ _

__Smile growing to almost a painful degree, you watched Bucky cross the room toward you until he reached your side and took your hand in his._ _

__“Is the couple ready?” the officiant asked._ _

__“Yes,” you answered confidently. “We’re ready.”_ _

__Bucky leaned toward you then, speaking in a whisper. “Are you sure about this, doll? You don’t want the big ceremony at the church with the fancy white dress?”_ _

__You shook your head with a smile. “Nope. I’ve got all I need right here. You and me. That’s all that matters,” you nodded._ _

__“Well, let’s do this then. We’ve got a honeymoon suite to get to,” Bucky replied with a wink._ _

__Slugging his arm, you then pulled Bucky down by his tie and pecked a kiss on his lips, to Tony’s displeasure._ _

__“Hey, hey! All that kissy stuff has to wait until after the ceremony, alright? There’s an order to these things. Or so I’m told,” your agent said, waving a hand to separate the two of you._ _

__You rolled your eyes, but obeyed and stepped away a foot with only your hands in contact. The ceremony was short with each of you using your own written vows that made you both cry. Once “I Do’s” and rings were exchanged, the officiant spoke the words “man and wife” and Bucky pulled you close, bending you backward for a deep and passionate kiss that most definitely involved tongue._ _

__“Ew, okay, can you at least wait until we leave the room before you consummate the marriage right here on the premises?” Tony asked in jest, which made you both laugh as Bucky brought you up to standing and held you close._ _

__“Dinner out before we leave for the honeymoon, Mrs. Barnes?” Bucky asked you with a glint of mischief in his eye._ _

__You thought for a moment and then leaned close. “I was thinking more like dinner in. Room service, Mr. Barnes?” you replied with a wink._ _

__Bucky then swept you off your feet, suitably in a bridal carry, which caused you to yelp in surprise. He carried you out of the room, managed to exit the building still holding you, and then reluctantly set you down only to open the passenger’s door so you could slip into the Impala. Tin cans on strings were tied to the bumper behind the car as Bucky pulled out into traffic. Soap letters on the back window spelled out “Just Married” as you drove off to spend your first evening as husband and wife._ _

_____________ _

__The Impala’s headlights lit up green and white on the freeway sign indicating that you were 10 miles from your hometown, your destination for the night. Four months of marriage under your belt and you had one more reception in your honor to attend. You had waited until school was out before heading home for a few weeks._ _

__Understandable so, your mother was disappointed and a little hurt that she hadn’t been at the ceremony when you were married. However, when you explained the circumstances that there was no way to please everyone, she calmed down slightly. Especially when you told her she could plan the home reception however she wanted to, within reason, and that she didn’t have to pay a dime. You offered a budget and stayed in contact about certain details, but otherwise it was up to your mother._ _

__A reception in both towns was the compromise to make everyone happy after your initial elopement. Two days previous, you’d had a rambunctious reception in Bucky’s town at a seldom-used dancing hall just outside of town. The diner catered and the whole town was invited. It turned into an all-night party until you eventually fell asleep in a chair, the party dying down as Bucky coaxed you into the car to head home._ _

__Now you were about to find out what your mother had chosen to do for your second reception. Five more miles to go now. Bucky grasped your thigh when he noticed you taking a deep breath._ _

__“You ready for this?” he asked, turning on his blinker to exit before pausing at the only stop light in town._ _

__“Yeah,” you breathed out in a sigh. “Just a little tired.”_ _

__“How’s she doing today?” he asked, placing his hand on your barely swelling belly that was well-hidden in your carefully chosen dress._ _

__“You’re still so sure it’s a girl?” you asked with a smile, placing your hand over his._ _

__He shrugged, retrieving his hand to drive into the parking lot. “I’d love a little boy, too, but it’s just a feeling.”_ _

__“Well, he or she will be beautiful and perfect. I just hope my mom doesn’t pick up on it just yet. If she knows, then the whole town knows. I like that it’s still just our little secret,” you confessed, holding Bucky’s hand in yours as the Impala came to a stop. It was still a little early to tell everyone, but Bucky knew the second he walked through the door that evening after the strip turned pink. The pregnancy was a surprise, but happily received by you both._ _

__“Me, too,” Bucky replied. “Although I kind of want to shout it from the rooftops. I’m gonna be a daddy!” he cried out within the confines of the car, wide smile upon his face._ _

__“Shh! I know. Soon, handsome. We’ve got a party to attend first,” you told him as he nodded and opened the driver’s side door before coming around to open yours._ _

__Hand held tightly in your husband’s, you took a deep breath before stepping into the large white tent where you were met with whooping applause._ _

__“Presenting Mr. and Mrs. James Barnes!” a loud voice announced over a microphone as people approached in congratulations._ _

__Back in the small town where it all began, you felt like you were coming home again. But then again, wherever you were with Bucky, it always felt like home._ _

___**The End** _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! And there it is! The end for Mechanic!Bucky. What did you think of their long-distance relationship and how they compromised in the end? Did you ever envision Bucky as a teacher? I think he'd be amazing. He finally made the decision to move to L.A. all on his own, years after her spontaneous invitation that pivotal weekend. It all comes full circle. I have so loved writing this series and I can’t thank you all enough for the love and support you’ve shown me. I appreciate you more than words can say. Thank you. As always, any feedback is appreciated. I love to hear from you.


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